A Year Without Rain
by SoulReaperNinja713
Summary: Ciara, a Wastelander and fugitive of Haven, is captured by the Krimzon Guard and their Commander. Although Erol and Ciara appear to despise one another, it is not as it seems. Years of betrayal have separated them, and in order to balance their lives again they must endure the pain of dealing with one another all while preventing a repeat of the past. :ErolOC: [Remade]
1. The Beginning or the End

_Clapping thunder echoed across the near darkened skies, looming over as the cold rain heavily cascaded down from the heavens far above us all. The ground became drenched in the familiar liquid called water as it fell from the sky, creating a chill so cold one may think it was winter. The skies were a dark shade of grey, blocking out the summer sun's vibrant rays, and it swarmed the skies like a fire spreading through a forest. The sun could no longer shine its beams of light throughout the nearly deceased Haven City. The only sounds that could be heard was the heavy pitter-pattering of freezing rain falling from the sky, mindlessly clattering to the ground. In a way, one could say this was all peaceful and calm. The embrace of the soothing waters would relax a person who was so stressed out with everything to even care Even though it felt like that for some people, this particular moment was not the best time to be worrying about the calming sights, feelings and sounds of rain. Instead, it was something else, something different from the calm sanctuary called rain. This moment, this...horrifying nightmare, could not compare to anything else, not even the rain as it fell from the sky. At this moment, only one could hope and pray for that sanctuary to come._

_Azure blue, deep set eyes suddenly started to turn dull by the passing minute. Small black dots appeared before me as I stood there, hunched over in pain and wondering how this could have happened. My vision began fading at an alarming rate; not doubt due to the pain that swarmed my body. In that instantly, I could see everything that took place in the recent history, wondering if what I did was worth it in the end. Did I really make all of these mistakes and not even think that the end would be my downfall? Thoughts like that and others passed my mind for only a second before it faded, returning to me to reality and making me face the pain that coursed through my veins._

_When a moment of contemplating my life passed by, my gaze slowly moved up and glared at the figure before me with clenched teeth, an enraged aura surrounding me as if my looks could kill the first thing I saw. Due to the rapidly fading vision, I could no longer see or make out the figure standing before me, yet deep down I knew who it was. However, with the fact of no longer being able to see eminent in my mind, I chose to look downward again, taking notice to a blur of red pooling out and protruding in front of me. In that instant, the pain began coursing through me, spiking every nerve in my body even more than before. It was as if it was letting me know something was wrong and whatever was wrong needed to be fixed. My mind became dizzier and dizzier at the mere sight of it, the lightheadedness keeping me partially down to earth for a good amount of time._

_I knew what it was without having to make out the shape. I could tell simply because of the sight, the touch and even the smell of it. The red blur was the dark and eerie color of blood, but it was not just anyone's blood pooling out in front of me. It was_ **_my_**_ blood, blood coming out of in injured inflicted upon me. It poured out of my abdomen and bled out as fast as my fading vision, causing my lightheadedness to increase with every passing minute, or in my case every passing second. As I had seen before, the redness of the blood was protruding out and away from my abdomen, which only meant an object was stabbed into me, causing the enormous pain I felt from both the abdomen and out from my back, where blood still trickled and stained my clothes. The torment lashed all around my body, and if I moved it would escalate for just a second before subsiding into nothing at all. A gasp escaped my lips as I attempted to catch my breath for just a second before looking back up at the figure, a death glare forming in my eyes. There was no use to it, though. Looks could only go so far, and in this case it was all it was: just a look._

_However, the look made it seem as though I wanted to say something, anything at all, to show just how upset I was - both at the figure in front of me and myself. Unfortunately, I could not find my voice anymore. It was as if someone just stole my voice and kept me from saying a word at all. Not only that, but the amount of pain I was in left me speechless altogether. It came to me as a surprise, as if the incident I was in was unexpected. It was one of the reasons I found myself cursing at everything about myself and about the decisions I made._

_Suddenly, a small, fading voice entered my ears, calling my name and trying to grab my attention. It sounded as though the voice was floating away from me or just passing by, like the wind brushing by and sounding as though it whispered in my ear. Immediately upon hearing the sound, I slowly looked over toward the direction that it came from, trying to figure out who or what it was that was speaking to me or at least trying to grab my attention. I did not even need to turn my head completely to notice a small blur of orange running across the ground seconds before it leapt onto my shoulder, standing up to be around two feet tall give or take a few inches. I could not make out anything else about it, but I did recognize it as the voice who spoke before. It started speaking again, its small voice sounding muffled and echoing in my head. At that point, it started to feel like I was being held under water as someone spoke. Even though it stood on my shoulder and was close to my ears, I was still unable to decipher what it was trying to say. Instead of answering as I would have liked to, I simply stared at the orange blur for only a moment, a look of sorrow and guilt filling my eyes._

_I knew just who it was despite my fading vision; there was no one else that I knew who was two feet tall and orange. It was someone who was very close to me, someone who probably wanted to make sure I was okay. Yet, I did not have the strength to let it know that because I did not know if that was true or false. Besides, not only was I unable to speak in the first place (probably because of the pain), but even if I wanted to I would not say anything. Deep down, I felt so ashamed for what had happened. The memories of the recent events played in my mind and kept repeating as if it were a broken record. Everything that lead up to this moment - meaning what caused the object of interest to enter my body - was all my fault. I felt horrible to know I let my small friend down all because of a small mishap, a small screw up, a minor moment of hesitation; however, that was the only reason why I felt that way. Everything I once that was real, everything I saw, was all false, yet I was in so much denial I refused to believe it. I wanted to, but at the same time I did not. I feared the truth, in a sense; I was scared to go back to the way things used to be because I knew for a fact that I would no longer fit in. I was stupid, and I let this figure get to my head because of it. Because of that moment of hesitation of thinking about everything that has happened, it lead to the object protruding from my stomach and through my back, forcing the pain to be inflicted on myself._

_The small voice continued to speak to me, as if trying to grab my attention, but I still refused to answer it. I was in my own little world, plus I just could not speak to it anymore. What was the point of speaking to it if I had nothing to say in order to explain myself for my actions of recent? It was_ **_all_**_ my fault, and I could never take it back._

_After a moment of staring at the small figure, my azure gaze looked past it and noticed another blur of orange. This one, however, held hints of crimson red and appeared much taller than the one standing on my shoulder. At this point, I realized my vision almost blinded me, but I could still see hints of the figure in the distance. I recognized the figure just like the other one, but was unable to say anything at all. It was not because I chose not to due to feel guilty, but I was unsure as to what I should say. I knew the figure was staring right back me with an unreadable expression, which brought me to my own emotions fumbling around in my head. My mind was filled with mix emotions that it was hard to tell which ones stood out the most to me. However, instead of piecing together the rather odd puzzle, I chose to do what I did best with them and simply let them go altogether._

_It no longer mattered to me, not when death was drawing closer and closer to me, so much that I could feel it pulling on the last threads of life within me. What was the point in attempting to figure out the emotions when my time was so close? Maybe it would give me some relief before passing, but I would never get to figure that out. Instead, my eyes narrowed briefly before looking away from the figure. It was as if I could no longer look at it without thinking on all the feelings forming in my head, knowing that I had caused so much trouble in his life as it was. Even though I tried to push away the emotions, it was difficult to do when I thought on the very figure I laid eyes on moments ago. Nothing could describe how I felt when it came to that particular person, and it was because of him that made me hesitate for the first time in years. It was too much to bear, and looking at the person right now made things much worse than I could have ever imagined._

_The object, suddenly, pulled out of my abdomen after what seemed like an eternity, forcing me to take in a deep breath of air before staggering backward, gripping my wound in pain. Panting began to take place of my breathing as I tried to move away from the creature, but to no avail. The figure on my shoulder tried speaking to me again, as if trying to ask me something, but I was unable to respond once more. Then, something took a hold of my throat, blocking any air that may have found its way into my body. It felt like talons had latched on me, preparing to decapitate me in an instant. I gasped immediately out of shock and lack of air as it lifted me off the ground, its grip on my neck tightening the further I was off the floor. It caused the orange figure on my shoulder to leap off almost reluctantly, but I did not react to it. Even when more voices started to appear in my head, I made no sudden movements. The black dots continued to form around my eyes, verifying that death was still growing closer. My body was numb from the large amounts of blood being lost, and it got to the point where I could no longer move my limbs to fight back and attempt to free myself. I felt limp, useless, and ready for death to take me away._

_Before anything else could happen, though, I took another glance at the second orange blur from before. It felt like my body was just shutting down on me, but at the same time I felt as though I wanted to look. Pain struck my chest as I watched said figure, and I could feel my eyes welling up with tears - a first, much like my fear, in a long time. I sensed he was staring at me still, but the expression was unreadable due to my lack of vision. After a moment, a single tear rolled down my cheek before I mustered whatever strength I had left to look away, a sense of shame falling over me for allowing all of this to happen._

_**I'm sorry...**__ I thought to myself just before I felt myself being tossed like a rag doll and falling into the unknown darkness. The rain started to collide against my face, hiding the now free falling tears that had formed in my eyes. My eyes closed completely as I heard my name, but much more clearly, for what I believed was the last time..._

_"CIARA!"_


	2. Deep Connections, Unwanted Reunions

"CIARA!"

"H-huh? What...?"

"CIARA! LOOK OUT FOR THAT ZOOMER IN FRONT OF YOU!"

Within seconds, my zoomer dropped down and entered hover mode, barely missing another flying vehicle before I slammed into it and killed myself. Immediately, my azure eyes shot back over my shoulder, only to spot several Krimzon Guard Hellcat Cruisers and Zoomers driving at top speeds as they chased me through the Industrial Section of Haven City. Much to my dismay, they seemed much closer than when I last glanced over my shoulder, giving me only two assumptions of the sudden change of the chase: 1) Their speeds drastically picked up in the two hours since our little game of cat and mouse throughout the city began; or 2) My stolen zoomer began slowing down due to the damage it received from the guards blasting me in an attempt to shoot me down. Locking my jaw and clenching my teeth out of annoyance, I scanned over my blue zoomer, taking notice to the small fire on the front of the damaged vehicle. Cursing under my breath at the sight of the flames, I quickly raised the zoomer back to its normal flying mode before speeding my way around another corner, praying to get the KG off me soon or bad things would happen.

Today was not one of the greatest days in the world; well, for _me_ it was not. I was currently being chased by what I believed to be nearly half of the Krimzon Guard army. Although I knew I was one of the most wanted fugitives in Haven City due to a severe crime I committed years ago when I still belonged to the forsaken city called Haven, I did not expect to be chased down by everyone who laid eyes on me and recognized who it was they were looking at. The only reason I came back to this dystopia of a city was to do some recon for Damas (it was in case a war ever occurred between Spargus and Haven). Usually, I would step out of the "borrowed" KG cruiser, did what I needed to do, and left to return to the Wasteland. That was it; that was all I had to do, no harm no foul. Today, however, was not one of those normal days. Today decided to make it much different than any other day I had come here.

A few minutes after I stepped out of the KG cruiser, I was immediately spotted by a Krimzon Guard who just happened to pass by at that given moment. He quickly pointed his weapon toward me, one of those taser gun weapons, before commanding me to "put my hands behind my head and fall to my knees." I noticed even from where I was standing what he was: a rookie who just entered the KG possibly a week or two ago and was just recently, probably today, let out on patrol. He seemed no older than twenty years old, but his voice sounded extremely shaky as he spoke to me and pointed his weapon. My eyes narrowed as I sent a glare to him, annoyed I was caught some newbie waiting to be killed by a fugitive. Immediately, his weapon began shaking violently before sputtering the command once more. He was afraid for his life and did not want to die. However, it was his choice to try to stop me. Instead of complying with him like anyone else would, I swiftly pulled out my red and grey metallic pistol and shot him between the eyes, watching as he slumped over and hit the floor with a thud.

Pity. It was a shame I could not feel as much guilt or sadness as I had used to, not after personal incidents prevented me.

"What the Hell was that back there, Ciara?"

I blinked once at a familiar pissed off voice before glancing over at Akira, my young, Wastelander ottsel friend of many years, as she stood on my shoulder with a small glare in her pink colored eyes. One of her brown-gloved hands was placed firmly on her hip, while the other gripped my shoulder armor. She stood at about two and a half feet tall and had short brown hair pulled back by a red headband. She also had a small Peace Maker strapped to her back, one she had nicknamed "Baby" or "Babe." Her fur was bright orange and her stomach was yellow, along with her palms, toes, and two stripes on both her ottsel ears, which were not restrained back by the headband. Around her waist was a brown weapon strap, which crossed over her right shoulder in order to keep it from falling. Assortments of smaller weapons were placed on the strap and in its pockets, but were hidden from view. In addition, she wore dark denim jeans with a hole in the back for her tail to be seen, since it did not feel right go around without pants these days according to her.

"You nearly got us killed back there! What happened?" I returned my gaze back forward and onto the "road" in front of me, ignoring the glare I received from my ottsel friend.

"Honestly," I replied in a somewhat distracted tone, "I don't know myself." She huffed with slight annoyance, half expecting my choice of words. I sensed her glance over her shoulder toward the pursuing guards before returning her gaze back at me once more.

"It looked like you were spacing out back there, as if everything around you suddenly went blank," she pointed out. I shrugged, making her fall onto my head for a split second before standing upright again.

"I must have been," I muttered a reply, but she was able to hear me.

"What do you think it was," she questioned. I stared at the ground as it flashed by at high speeds.

I did not know what the small moment of daydreaming was. It was incomprehensible beyond all reasoning. What did it mean, I wondered. What was going on? Why did I even have it in the first place? Was it some sort of sign? If so, what was it suppose to mean, anyway? It was not an everyday routine for something as incryptive as that to happen to me, especially to someone like me. I was not a crazy, psychotic lunatic nor was I on the verge of becoming one, or so I assumed. Past events forced me to believe I had lost it from time to time, but friends like Akira told me otherwise. They did not believe I was crazy at all; they believe something from my past, something life changing, made me who I was today. They thought if I was able to resolve the issue with whatever happened back then, it would most likely change me into a completely different person and change my lifestyle entirely today and for the future. Of course, I did not believe Akira and the others. I refused to believe them. Although they were right about the whole issue thing from my past, but they were wrong about attempting to resolve the whole thing. If they only knew the whole story of why I could not resolve the issue of my past.

"I don't know..." I responded duly, earning a worried expression from the female ottsel.

"You think you'll be okay?" She asked, a hint of worry filling her voice.

Before I could answer her, one of the guards fired a few shots at us, missing us by a few inches. I rolled my eyes, mentally laughing at whoever fired at me due to their bad aim, before swiftly making a right turn and then a quick left. I decided to head toward the Port of Haven City, hoping to go back on the cruiser and return to Spargus to escape this uproar for a while. It would probably take about a week to cool things down around the city, but I was not entirely sure. Only time would tell for now.

During the chase, Akira had been able to hold them back with her Peace Maker, blasting them with the built-in Wastelander rifle occasionally and taking down a Hellcat Cruisers or Zoomer to distract them for a moment while we made our escape. Thankfully, her Wasteland Peace Maker was exactly her size and she was not using mine, or she would barely keep herself on the zoomer while I sped away from the guards. However, her distractions slowly stopped working as they ignored their fallen comrades and continued to chase us down. I could sense there was more KG chasing after us, and pretty soon the zoomer I was driving would explode, bringing Akira and I to our demise. My azure eyes narrowed as I flung a strand of my green colored bangs out of my face. I kept the rest of my long, golden blonde hair (which, unfortunately, reached my back) in front of my right shoulder to keep it from getting in the way of Akira's skilled shooting. I had to ditch the ride soon or things would not end well in our favor. My teeth clenched as I glared at the body of water closing in as we sped through the air at high speeds.

"Shit..." I cursed under my breath, my grip on the zoomer tightening. Akira stopped her shooting and looked over at me.

"What are we gonna do, Ciara?" She asked, the same worried tone filling her voice. "I'm afraid they're getting to closer and closer by the second!"

I glanced at her for a second, before an idea popped into my head. A smirk appeared on my face as I looked back forward once more, staring at the water up ahead and growing near.

"I've got an idea," I spoke up, "but I don't think you'll like it very much."

She glanced at me with a confused look and asked, "What do you mean?"

Before she could say another word, I took a hold of her small, furry frame and leapt off the zoomer. Seconds later, it exploded as one of the guards shot it down with only a single shot. The ottsel's shriek was muffled by the explosion, yet I could still hear how shocked she was by my sudden stunt. My back slammed into the ground and caused me to slide away from the destruction. Luckily, my chest and shoulder armor I received back in Spargus helped with the fall, preventing me from scratching up my back and shoulders. Without them, I most likely would have ended up with a badly injured back and shoulders

Once my sliding came to a halt, I looked up quickly to find a swarm of Krimzon Guard vehicles surrounding us, each one of their weapons pointed at us and were prepared to open fire when the moment had come. I glared at all the red vehicles as they stared us down, possibly waiting for other guards to come and arrest us on the spot. While they waited for who knows what, Akira glared up at me for just a second, pissed about my plan of jumping out of a moving zoomer without actually explaining it to her, before noticing the Krimzon Guards surrounding us. Instead of cowering away like any other sidekick probably would have, she forced me to release her and stood on my cold, bronze armored chest. Now, she was forcing her anger that was toward me and moving it toward the guards, who were the real enemies in this case.

"Hey! You wanna mess with us?" She snapped angrily, pulling out her "Baby" once more and aiming at the vehicles around us. I did not react to her angered outburst, knowing Akira's personality all too well to be freaked out anymore. Unlike like the guards surrounding us, who stared at her as if she had grown two heads, I knew she was very short tempered, and angering her was far from difficult. A smirk fell upon her furry face before saying in a teasing manner, "Ah, you're hesitating now, huh? Too much of a chicken to take the two of us down on your own?"

After a few seconds of silence, a few snickers appeared from several of the guards, making Akira growl with more anger than before.

"What are you gonna do with that stick, little rat? Beat us to death with it?" One of them commented, earning a laugh from the others immediately. Once again, Akira growled and aimed her Peace Maker toward the one who made the comment. As a warning, never make fun of Akira's "Baby"…or else.

"'Stick'?" She fumed, ears perked up as her eyes became more enraged. "I'll show you what this 'stick' can do to your Krimzon asses!"

Without giving the guards a chance to react, she charged up the Peace Maker and released the trigger, expelling it toward the first cruiser she laid eyes on. The blast forced her to fall onto her back due to the strong force it used to fire. In just a second, the cruiser, which held the first laughing Krimzon Guard, exploded into a thousand pieces, bringing two or three along with it in the process. By now, civilians had already fled the highly dangerous scene that was taking place, afraid of getting involved with the violence taking place at the moment. Those who were stupid enough to stay and watch fled the second the cruisers exploded. Getting to my feet quickly, I grabbed Akira, tossed her on my shoulder and sprinted from the scene as fast as my legs would carry me. My hair trailed behind me as I sprinted down the pathway at full speed, the winds brushing against me and making it whip about behind me.

"Nice distraction, Akira," I commented, earning a small smirk from the young ottsel.

"No one talks about my Baby that way," she snickered, placing her weapon on her back and holding onto my shoulder. "Anyone that does will taste her wrath! You know that all too well, Ciara!"

"That I do, my friend." I replied, panting as I spoke. "That I do."

Suddenly, the sound of shots firing sounded from behind me. I glanced over my shoulder to find the KG gaining on us despite the explosive ordeal moments ago. Cursing under my breath, I returned my gaze forward and kept running. However, I nearly caught my breath as I saw several more KG cruisers coming our way, just before we reached the three way intersection leading toward that damned statue of Praxis. Cursing once more, I slid to a stop in the middle and was about to make a right turn, only to find even more KG cruisers coming our way. I was on the verge of cursing again, but stayed silent as I glared at the cruisers floating above us. I pulled out my own Peace Maker, one just like Akira but just my size, and aimed it for one of the cruisers before aiming at another and then another one that came into my sights. So many to choose from, but so hard to pick off the right one. My eyes narrowed as I glared at each one of the KG vehicles, everyone pointing their guns at me. Pretty soon, large amounts of Krimzon Guards came running in, weapons in hand, and also surrounded the area even more than I originally intended.

"Drop your weapons! Now!" One of the guards commanded. "Drop your weapons, or we'll open fire!" I laughed a fake laugh.

"Oh really?" I questioned in a fake teasing manner. "You think you can _actually_ shoot us? Two full-fledged Wastelanders who can easily put a bullet to each and every one of your heads, shoot down your cruisers, and run off safe and sound back home as if nothing ever happened?" Silence was immediately met, letting me know that I was free to speak once again. "I'd like to see you try, you Krimzon bastards! Go ahead! I dare one of you to make the first move! Right now!"

Immediately, they did not hesitate to prepare their weapons for opening fire. The clicking sounds of preparation to shoot was met like a wave crashing against the shoreline of the beaches, lights charging up in order to open fire and take us down should they need to. I stood my ground and kept my place, Akira mirroring my actions perfectly, and waited for someone to make the first shot in an attempt to kill us or at least take us down. In a way, we wanted to have a reason to shoot instead of shooting first and asking questions later. Granted, I was instigating them to open fire, but to me that meant nothing. If the enemy was willing to take the first steps in attacking, then I would give it to them. If not, then I would take that shot. Unfortunately, in a place like Haven, I would rather have the Krimzon Guards appear to be heroes, even if it would have lasted a second. I did not really understand why, but then again I never really questioned it.

Despite their threat of opening fire if I did not comply, no one dared to take the first shot as I requested them to do; from where I stood, every single guard was shaking in their armored suits. They were hesitating, not wanting to lose their lives like the others had in such a short amount of time. I small smirk appeared on my face. Should have known they were nothing but cowards hiding in their armor.

"You noticed it, too, huh?" Akira whispered, also noticing the quivering guards. I simply nodded a response. "I'm gonna love shooting these guys and picking them off one by one."

"You've got that right," I whispered back to her, aiming to the furthest guard from me.

"Lower your weapons, men." An all too familiar and commanding voice broke the silence between us. My eyes widened in shock as I looked forward, noticing several of the guards look over their shoulders in the direction in which the voice came from. My entire body froze like ice on a freezing winter's morning while everyone else lowered their weapons as commanded. For a moment, I stood there, watching as the familiar figure in red appeared from the crowd of guards. My expression, soon, turned from shocked to blank but hints of anger. My eyes narrowed as I stared into the amber eyes of the Krimzon Guard Commander himself.

"Erol..." I hissed, my voice dripping with hatred toward him. To be honest, hate was not even the appropriate word to describe what I felt as I stared at him and his unwavering form. Despised, abhorred, scorned. Words like that would better fit the spot for hatred filling my veins with every passing second I stood there, staring into those damned amber eyes.

The flaming haired Commander simply stared me down with a blank expression, a common trait that I had picked up over the years. Out of everyone in the Krimzon Guard, Erol was the only one who had the guts to ever stand up to me, a "mass murdering machine" as some people bluntly referred to me behind my back. Some people wondered how he was able to do such a thing without being afraid to die. Sometimes I wondered that myself, only to realize the truth and hate him even more than before. It had been years since I last saw the face of the Commander, but it was a point in time in which I did not want to see him. Since then, there were times when I wished he would drop dead in order for me to forget about him for good. However, Akira thought it was wrong for me to think such things. Thing was, she did not know the whole story as to why I hated him with as much passion as I did, enough for me to destroy all of Haven City in a single blow. As scary as it sounded, it was the truth. I preferred to be honest and spoke my mind, but sometimes I wondered if it some things were better left unsaid.

"It's been a long time, Ciara," he spoke, his voice matching his expression perfectly. His voice changed, though, to something different as my name escaped his lips, sending a shiver down my spine. What it was was beyond me, but now was not the time to be worrying about a person's change in voice tones, especially if it was from the man I hated. My Wasteland Peace Maker slowly began to lower to an appropriate level, but I kept both hands on it just in case he tried anything funny. He was not the type to pull any tricks, but I never judged a book by its cover, not even for a split second.

"Not...long...enough..." I replied bluntly, emphasizing every word. He did not waver at the anger radiating off my body, which surprised several of the guards surrounding us. Some, despite their heavy looking armor, were still shaking, but refused to show it to the others. It was so they could appear strong, but I could see right through them.

"Six years," he said, his hands moving behind his back almost as if he were hiding something. "I believe it was six years since we last saw one another."

My face remained blank, but the grip on my Peace Maker was tight, tight enough to choke the life out of someone in a second. Akira noticed this immediately.

"Ciara?" She questioned in a low tone of voice, but earned no response or even a single glance from me.

"I didn't expect to see you again, Erol." I stated. "In fact, I made it clear not to see you..._six years ago_."

He raised his hands as if he were trying to defend himself.

"I'm just doing my job," he pointed out. "I don't have much of a choice when it comes to chasing down one of the most wanted fugitives in Haven City." My eyes narrowed. He sounded as if he were teasing or mocking me, but in reality he was not. I knew him all too well to know he was not acting in such a childish manner. If he were to try to do that, I would sense it coming off his body and I would even see it in his amber eyes. It was as if he knew the right tone of voice to speak to me in and when to speak it in order to keep the mood at a...seemingly calm setting. His words, however, were a completely different story.

"Really?" I responded, earning a small nod from him as he folded his hands in front of his chest, his amber eyes never leaving my azure ones. "So would you consider bedding a dead weight whore your job as well?" A few of the guards looked at one another in and almost surprised and shocked state of mind. I would say they were almost appalled at my choice of words while Erol's face suddenly went from blank to...apologetic? I could not tell, but in a way it was just a reminder of the past.

"Ciara..." He spoke, but trailed off for only a moment, a moment was I chose not to give him.

"You know the reason why things went the way they did back then, Erol." I growled. "It was all your fault and you know it. You became so...so arrogant and full of yourself back then, just at the snap of a finger, a drop of a coin; you became blinded to know what you were actually doing, and frankly it didn't seem like you cared. In turn, it affected the people around you..." His eyes narrowed slightly as he uncrossed his arms. "And I'm sure you know who I'm talking about..."

"That's not true..." He spoke, taking a small step forward as if he were trying to console me. I reacted by taking a swift step back; I did not need his sympathy nor did I want it from him.

"I don't wanna hear those damned excuses anymore!" I snapped, letting the anger get the best of me for only a moment. However, in that moment, a spark of purple lightning appeared, causing me to recoil and take another step back.

"Ciara, calm down." Akira spoke in a soothing tone. "We don't wanna repeat of what happened-"

"Six years ago..." I interrupted her, anger and rage seeping into my voice once more. "The only reason that happened..." I glared at Erol, "was because of you. All those innocent people lost their lives because of what you did..."

"The only reason that happened was because you overreacted," he corrected. "You never gave me a chance to explain myself!" Another spark escaped me as my eyes shot towards him, filled with fury and rage. Explain himself? What I saw did not need a damn explanation! Overreacted? He may have known the right tones to use against me, but his words were beyond horrible.

"_YOU THINK IT WAS BECAUSE I OVERREACTED?_" I exclaimed. "_YOU LYING, TWO-FACED, SON OF A_-" I immediately stopped myself, placing my hand against my head as it began throbbing in pain.

"Ciara! You're forgetting what Damas told you!" Akira shouted, worrying dripping out of her voice. "Keep your emotions in check, or 'It' will come out again like last time!"

I moaned in pain for a brief moment, trying to hold back the creature that was ready to wreak havoc on the city, before looking down at my right hand for some strange reason. Immediately, I began staring at the small object in my hand, an object that suddenly brought me back to reality again. It was half the symbol of the Seal of Mar; it was the same color as the fabled Light Eco, and it glistened in the lighting of the city lights (as dim as they were). I had received it when I was young - around age seventeen, I believe it was - and I kept it with me even to this day. It reminded me of the happy times I had; back when the problems of the world had no affect on me, back when I was with my old childhood friend. However, it also reminded me of the days in which my life changed for the worst, years after receiving the small necklace. As much I did not want to remember them, they always came flooding back to me. Despite that, however, I could not get rid of the necklace in my hand. It was if losing it would be losing a huge chunk of my life, a life that I seemed much too attached to.

I stared at it for another moment long before gripping it shut once more. A small, fake smile appeared on my face before I looked back at Erol.

"You think...it was because I overreacted..." I muttered aloud. Erol stared at me, hesitating to respond to my words. While we stood there, staring one another down, my hand holding my Peace Maker held onto the trigger. Immediately, a blue orb of electricity appeared in it, charging up its energy in a matter of seconds. "Well then..." I continued, pointing the elongated weapon in Erol's direction. "You're dead wrong..."

At that moment, I released the trigger and sent the orb flying. However, instead of hitting Erol, it flew past him and struck the cruisers behind him, falling onto the guards standing under it. Within seconds, I returned my Peace Keeper back its normal place and leapt backwards. Giving a small signal to Akira, she quickly pulled out my Jetboard, activated it, and tossed it on the water just before I landed into it. The explosion left a perfect distraction for the guards, including Erol, giving us the opportunity to make our escape back to Spargus. I watched as the guards began scrambling around like cockroaches when a light flashed on, but comical as it was, I noticed something out of place. Erol, who turned the moment the explosion went off, was watching me once again, even at the far off distance. He may have reacted to the explosion, but clearly it did not last very long. Without realizing it, I returned the gaze with a hardened glare. That man would be the death of me, all because of the stupid mistakes he made not just six years ago, but even the years before then.

"Ciara, are you okay?" I jumped and glanced at Akira, who had a worried expression on her face. Although she was one to be hyperactive and ready to kick some ass when she needed to do so, she had a soft side as well. That was what bothered the Hell out of everyone who spoke to her and were not feeling well. For me, however, it did not seem to bug me all that much. Everyone had a soft side, not matter how mean or arrogant the person was toward everyone. I knew from experience. "You looked so angry and upset back there." I looked away from her and closed my eyes.

"I'll be fine..." I muttered. It was not a good enough answer for her.

"What...did he do to you," she asked cautiously, "that caused you so much pain and sadness?"

Instead of responding to her words, I turned around to face forward on the Jet Board, allowing the wind to lightly brush against my lightly tanned skin as we slowly hovered our way to our destination: the cruiser in which we came in to Haven City. Akira, knowing I would not continue the matter any longer, remained silent and leaned against my head, not wanting to open any unwanted wounds. I could sense she was still worried about me, but understood the subject was a matter I chose not to discuss right now. For now, we decided to head back home and worry about this day some other time. Hopefully, that some other time would not come back.

Silence enveloped the both of us as we approached our destination, landing on the small platform leading in and out of the water. I hopped off my board and kicked it up into my hand, putting it on my back just under my Peace Maker. I looked over at the large red cruiser as it waited expectantly for someone to come aboard and take a short ride to a different destination. A small sigh escaped my lips as I slowly made my way there, not really worrying about the guards coming after me anymore due to the distraction. As long as I escaped the city, I did not care about the guards or Erol. My hands balled into fists as I thought of him once again, but I quickly shook off the image of the flaming haired Commander. I had to keep my emotions in check for the time being; lashing out on the city _again_ would not be the greatest idea in the world. Not like last time.

Another sigh escaped my lips as my thoughts went back to that day six years ago. It was a day I would rather not remember, but could not help but dawn on every once in awhile. Sadly, that once in awhile should have come at a different time, and not today.

Suddenly, pain shot through my body as something sharp struck my shoulder. It felt as though someone came up from behind me, punched me and pushed me to the ground all in one hit, and it hurt like Hell. I yelped in pain as I collapsed to the ground, falling onto my hands and knees and causing poor Akira to somersault a few times before landing on her stomach with a small thud. She quickly sat up and looked over at me, wondering what had happened that caused me to trip, only to gasp as she got to her small feet and ran over to me.

"Ciara! Are you okay?" She asked, noticing an object on the shoulder in which pain erupted from. She quickly pulled the object out of my shoulder quickly, making me wince for a moment before looking at her. My eyes widened as I noticed what she was holding her small paws.

"They're trying to drug me..." I whispered, staring at the needle pointed syringe for another moment before springing into action. "Those cowards..." I quickly got to my feet and attempted to sprint over to the cruiser, only to find everything spinning around me. I almost lost my footing for a moment, but I caught myself before I fell over like an idiot after a drinking party. Quickly but somewhat uncoordinated, I made my way over toward the cruiser as quickly as my legs could carry me. Everything continued to spin around me, but I did my best to ignore it even for a little while. Although the drugs were working quicker than expected, I continued to move as much as I could. Then, another object collided with the back of my leg, forcing me to fall onto one knee. Akira, who was running in front of me the whole time, noticed me and quickly ran to my side. She, again, took the needle out, but the drugs set in before she could remove and stop it. "Damn it..." I muttered. "It's like getting a hangover without the alcohol..."

"Ciara, stay with me, alright?" She said, pulling me along as I attempted to get to my feet. "We're almost there! Just another several more steps! You can do this!" Her voice sounded hazy at that point, but I tried to brush it off.

"What...what bastards..." I muttered. "Thinking they could use this...anesthetics...as a last resort to take me down. That's...that's cowardice...!"

"Stop right there!" We heard the guards coming closer toward us. "Suspects on foot!" Everything was spinning excessively fast at that point, the effects kicking faster and faster by the second. I became too lightheaded and dizzy, so much I could no longer hold my own at that point, which forced me to fall once again and land on my hip. No doubt I would find a bruise there later.

"Ciara, don't give up now! We're almost there!" Akira urged, pulling on my hand in an attempt to help me keep me moving. "It's just a few more steps away!"

"I'm trying...but it's...it's no use, Akira." I spoke in a unintended lazy tone due to the drugs coursing through my veins. "They're...they're going to catch us...if you...if you try to help me now. I don't...I don't want to you to get captured with me..."

She blinked once at my words before they widened with realization; she knew what I was trying to say and she did not like it.

"No. No, no, no!" She exclaimed, placing her small hands on my cheeks and forcing me to look at her. "Ciara, you can't let yourself get captured! I won't let you!"

"I can't even stand up anymore...without falling to the ground again," I told her, allowing the arm supporting me to give out and land on the cold ground. "You'll have to...go on without me."

Her eyes narrowed almost annoyedly before snapping, "I'm not going to let you go all melodramatic over some stupid drugs!" She, then, started pulling me even more with all the strength she could muster. "I'm not leaving without you!" Her voice was slowly leaving me, creating an echoing sound that further increased the vertigo, and it sounded further away from me than before. "Damas will chew my head off if he finds out I left you behind like this!"

"Please...Akira..." I muttered, my eyes slowly closing despite my attempts to keep them open. "I know Damas better...better than anyone; he'll find a way...to bring me home and safe and sound..." My eyes narrowed, but my focused remained on her. "But he won't be able to do that...if you don't go and tell him right now..."

She stared at me for a long moment, her pink colored eyes filled with worry. I could sense her feeling as if she were betraying me, almost as if she were abandoning me in the deserts of the Wasteland, but my eyes assured her otherwise. She held back any tears that may have started to form, knowing she was tougher than that, before taking a few steps away from my limp, almost unconscious body.

"You better stay alive when we come back..." She muttered, but loud enough for me to hear her.

A small smirk appeared on my lips as I closed my eyes and allowed the drugs to take over before muttering a small statement: "I don't make any promises...if I'm not sure I can keep them..."

* * *

"Sir, I think she's coming to."

"Already? I thought the drugs she was shot with would keep out for another hour or two..."

"Apparently not, sir. What do we do?"

A short pause. "...Let her wake up on her and allow her walk. It's not rocket science."

"Are you insane? She'll kill us if she wakes up!"

"She's in cuffs, soldier, and the drugs should keep her subdued for a while longer...I hope..."

"Umm...Should I be worried about her...sir?"

"You should be..."

"HOLY-!"

**_THUD!_**

I felt my body collide with the cold ground beneath me, harshly if I may add. The force was enough to make me yelp in surprise. Fortunately, my hands were cuffed in the front so I was able to catch myself before my face hit the ground. Everything was still hazy, and I still felt a sense of vertigo surround me, but it was not as bad as before I blacked out. Slowly, I lifted myself onto my knees and just sat there, staring at the ground and trying to get rid of the lightheadedness. From the color of it, I had to be in the Industrial Section. However, the only difference was that I did not have my furry friend on my shoulder like I always did. It felt a little weird, but I had no other choice than to let her return to Spargus without me. I could not risk letting her be taken away, especially to the Krimzon Guard. I would never forgive myself if I let her fall into the hands of these bastards. Hopefully, she would tell Damas of the predicament I had been placed in and he would send in an army to come save me from the dystopia. Hopefully being the keyword.

My head lowered a bit, praying that nothing had happened to her while she made her escape from this horrible place.

"You idiot! What the Hell is the matter with you?" I tensed at the familiar, but angered Commander's voice as he snapped at the guard who holding onto me.

"I-I apologize, sir! I didn't mean to! I-I swear!" He stuttered. "She scared the Hell out of me, and I flinched!"

Erol growled out of anger for a moment before saying, "Krimzon Guards aren't supposed to be afraid of anything! Maybe you should go back to the academy and learn that!"

When the guard did not respond to the commanding officer, I sensed those amber eyes falling upon me once more. They changed from angry at the guard to almost soft in a matter of seconds - like I said before, it changed with just a snap of a finger. Some of the guards were still a bit surprised by his change of mood as he looked at me as if I were a lost child, which was even more surprising since he probably would have passed by an actual lost child were he in such a predicament. My head lowered more, forcing myself not to look at him. As I did that, I heard him walk over to me and slowly drop to one knee, all while keeping his gaze on me. Again, my head lowered even more and my fists clenched tightly as I held the urge to slap him right across the face despite being cuffed. As much as I wanted to, I chose to be "nice" to him just this once. However, he did not seem to appreciate the fact I refused to look at him face to face. Instead of telling me to look at him, he forced me to do so.

I, soon, felt his hand under my chin and slowly force me to look at him. To my surprise, I did not reject it as I had would have liked. Here he was, invading my personal space and even going as far as to lay a hand on me, only for me to do what he wanted. It was unexpected and rather uncalled for. I was about to say something to him, probably lash out or something, but I looked into his amber eyes for a moment longer. My expression remained blank, but I made no motion to remove his hand from my face. He stared into my azure orbs with a look of sympathy, apology, and what I presumed to be guilt. All in one, I could see it in his eyes and on his face. It surprised me greatly, for it was not an everyday routine for someone in high ranks as the Commander of the Krimzon Guard to show any of the emotions he showed at this moment, especially when it was in his nature to be sadistic. Either he was upset about something or he was playing a sick trick on me, lying to me just as he had done before. At that thought, my eyes narrowed as I now glared at him. He had to be lying, he had to be.

Without a word, I closed my eyes and turned my head away from him, unable to look at him any longer. His hand was removed as I did that, but he did not react to my actions. My fists were still clenched, but for some reason the urge to slap him had vanished altogether. What had caused this sudden change of heart was beyond me. Nevertheless, I brushed it off like I always did, not wanting to allow petty emotions to get in the way. A sigh escaped his lips before he took the next step and placed both hands on my upper arms. My eyes reopened out of shock as he brought back onto my feet again. I sensed the other guards tense as they stood to the side, almost as if they were expecting me to react negatively. I could not blame them; it was not an everyday thing to see someone like Erol acting the way he was toward me. I knew he was completely different: always arrogant, self-centered, and sadistic. It was not a surprise to hear things about him that were not the best, but it would make someone perform a double take at the news of him being..._nice_.

I was speaking as someone else, though. As for me, it was a different story.

"What? No 'Thank you'?" Erol asked with a small smirk on his face, breaking my moment of thought. For a moment, I did not respond. Instead, I stood there in silence, fists still clenched and the urge to slap him once again returning to me. The nerve of the guy, asking for a "Thank you" just because he helped me up to my feet. He thought he could get a response because of a simple, nice gesture. It was not enough to get anything out of me that was for sure. I suppose he never did change over the years.

Silently, my azure eyes looked back up into his amber orbs. Despite my five inch height difference from him, my eyes could easily send a shiver down anyone's spine and make them beg for mercy; it was a look that was evil enough to seek out death if I chose to. Erol, however, was not like other people who have met me face to face and lived to tell the tale. He did not tense up at my gaze, he did not begin shivering like a leaf, as anyone else would do in a matter of minutes. Instead, he simply stared right back and did not dare to look away from me. He had a lot of guts, that was for sure. However, just because he was able to stand up to me and my dangerous ways, it did not mean he would survive my wrath. It would earn him respect. Then again, this was Erol of all the people in the world. In my eyes, he did not deserve any sort of respect, especially from someone like me.

After another moment of silence, I slowly broke away from his grasp, but continued to look him in the eyes.

"You actually want me to say 'Thank You' just because you helped me onto my feet." I spoke, my voice bleak and dull. It was not a question; it was a statement.

"It would be a nice thing to do," he responded. "I would have just left you there, but I chose to be friendly for once."

My eyes narrowed even more as I glared at him.

"So you want me to act like a friend in return?" I questioned. "Something you know little to nothing nothing about despite all the things I did for you?" At that moment, his eyes widened slightly, as if he were hurt by my words. I did not care; I chose to speak those words to hurt him. I wanted him to feel the same pain I went through. I wanted him to know what it was like to lose a friend...again.

"Ciara," he spoke, but I quickly interrupted up.

"More of your excuses, I presume?" He remained silent for a long time, giving me the impression that he had no response. I looked away from him. "Just as I thought."

He did not look away, but his eyes became more saddened.

"You call them excuses," he pointed out, "I call them explanations."

"Explanations..." I muttered, laughing a bit at his words and shaking my head. "That's the best you could come up with?"

"What you saw back then needed an explanation, Ciara." He told me in a bit of a harsher tone, but he did not sound angered.

I growled at his words and looked back at him, holding back the urge to slit his throat.

"What I saw back then did not need an explanation!" I snapped, making the guards jump and quickly aim their weapons at me, ready to fire if I chose to attack. Erol did not waver at my outburst. I looked away from him once more, bringing my emotions in check once again and avoiding a shootout. When I made sure I was calm again, I glanced at the ground. "What you did back then...what you did six years ago and even before then...needed no explanation..." I went on in a calmer, yet angered tone of voice. He simply stood there, staring at my form. Sighing, I walked right past him, harshly bumping into him without a second thought. I did not look back as I wandered up to a small group of guards, who slowly took a few steps back at my approach. "Take me to the Palace..." I commanded. "I demand you do so before things get ugly..."

They simply stood there, looking at one another and unsure whether to respond or not. However, one decided to speak up...

"Sorry, we only take orders from the Commander."

...but spoke the wrong words.

My eyes slowly moved to the guard who spoke up, eyeing him as if answered the question, or the demand, wrong. Judging by the tone of his voice, he sounded like a rookie teenager, just like the one I gun down that morning. However, he looked to stand his ground against my gaze, just like Erol. Slowly and menacingly, I slowly took one step toward him, keeping my cool since this was not such a big deal on my part. He, on the other, was very much similar to Erol. The difference between him and the Commander was that he was acting cocky.

"A loyal Krimzon Guard, huh?" I spoke. "How cute. Remind me to give you a metal for 'The Best Bootlicker'."

"I don't take orders from fugitives," he told me, keeping his cool as well. After a moment of staring him down, he chuckled. "If you're trying to scare me, it's not gonna work. I'm not afraid of you."

A small laugh escaped my lips.

"Oh really?" I questioned, taking the last step to close the small gap between us and keeping a hardened gaze locked on him. Again, he did not waver and kept his ground; he must have been more cocky than Erol, and I found it hilarious. Although he stood tall and looked tough, the scent that came off his armor said one thing; he was a smoker. Smokers, usually marijuana smokers, tended to have little reaction time. How I knew? I lived in the Wasteland for as long as I could remember and read my fair share of books to know that much.

Suddenly, I had my hands against his neck and back to the ground, straddling him within seconds. He did not have time to react, as I expected, and lied there in shock.

"Hey! What the Hell are you doing?" He exclaimed. "Get off of me!"

"Tell me something, rookie," I started, "you're a smoker, aren't you? Marijuana, I presume?"

"What the Hell does that have to do with anything?" He snapped, attempting to push me off him, but failing. The guards reacted by pointing their weapons at me, not much to my surprise, but they did not open fire just yet.

"Let me explain something to you that the academy probably never touched on in class," I spoke to him as if showing him up on intelligence. "Usually people who smoke marijuana have lower reaction times, leaving them open for attacks." I smirked almost menacingly. "If you hadn't slacked off in class, you would know that smoking on or before the job is highly dangerous, as getting killed by an enemy is raised depending on much of the crap you take in."

"So what if I'm a smoker," he responded. "It doesn't mean anything!"

"If it doesn't mean anything, I wouldn't straddling you like this and ready to kill you!" I snapped. "Now tell me!" My grip tightened around his neck, blocking off the oxygen. "Are you scared of me _now_?"

"Alright! We'll take you to the Palace!" Another guard shouted, worry filling his voice. I glanced at the guard who spoke up, sensing his fear immediately. "Just-just don't hurt my son!"

I stared at him for another moment before looking back down at his son, who was noticeably losing air by the minute. Then, I rolled my eyes nonchalantly, muttered a small "Good" and slowly got to my feet, releasing the kid's neck in the process. I moved back as the rookie slowly got to his feet, coughing and panting in an attempt catch his breath. The moment I moved away, I watched the father help his son to his feet before I turned around to glance at Erol. He was looking over his shoulder slightly and observed the whole ordeal in silence; no doubt he gave the order to the guards to keep their weapons in check. Of course, he had to have been looking at me the entire time, since I could feel his gaze on the back of my head, but I did not react to it. Instead, I glared at him once more and turned my back to him, nodding my head to a frightened guard to let him know I was ready to go and willing to cooperate. In response, he hesitantly motioned for me to start moving and follow the other guards in front of us. Silently, I began following them, ignoring the gaze of the amber eyed Commander as he watched me walk away from him before he began walking behind the rest of us.

It was his fault Iwas acting the way I was. It was his fault we had grown so far apart...


	3. The Dictator Called Praxis

I silently stared up at the pale blue ceiling of the Palace's throne room, attempting to keep myself occupied with something that did not involve the situation I was placed in at the moment. The group of guards leading me here finally brought me to the damned building after what felt like hours of walking through the lifeless city called Haven. The drugs felt as if they had worn off by now, but I still felt light-headed with every step I took toward the Palace overlooking the near barren city. Luckily, I was able to hide it from the others surrounding me, not wanting to be carried around again only to be dropped off later on during our little "journey" through the city. I had enough dropping from heights for one day, and another might make me want to kill an entire army of guards once again. Surprisingly enough, though, I was not in the mood to kill anyone anymore for the rest of the day. If Akira were here, she would slap me across the face for thinking such things. Still, it seemed to clear out of my system from killing all those guards, but I would not know for sure if my thoughts would be true. Depending on who I run into during my time here, I hoped I would be alright and steer clear of starting another massacre. At least, for the time being.

During our walk to the Palace, Erol slowly made his way up to walk next to me, but I ignored him for most of the way there. From time to time, I could feel his gaze fall on me, his expression unreadable, but I did not return it like he possibly intended or would have wanted. After a time, I glanced at him out of the corner of my eyes, trying to decypher the unreadable look on his face. What I found kind of, if not almost, surprised me. His face held some sort of mix between fear, anxiety, worry, and what I believed was apology. Apology was something I could deal with and what made me add the almost part to my surprise, since it seemed like there was no way I could forgive him after so many years, but why he held such unusual looks was beyond me. At the time, and even now, it was out of my range of caring to really try and figure it out, especially when he was the topic of interest. Instead, I simply continued walking down through the streets, not even daring to say a single word to him for fear of letting him get into my head. There were moments when he attempted to make small talk with me, only to be either ignored or given a glare in response depending on his words. He wanted to talk, possibly to reminisce on the past that did not involve anything bad, but I refused to give him that chance for even a second. That was what I wanted to believe.

There was one subject he brought up, however, which made me start talking to him...even if it did not involve sending daggers with my eyes.

"I wouldn't be surprised if Praxis actually lets you live again after what happened," he stated, grabbing my attention with his choice of words, much to both my surprise and dismay. "Even after all that's happened, he still finds a way around it and sees you as one of the best."

Slowly, I glanced up at him from the corner of my eyes, but kept a blank expression like I always did when I was around him during the recent times.

"What makes you say that?" I questioned, sounding a bit curious by his words, but keeping a normal composure.

"He seems to like you and can still see you as a Krimzon Guard, one of his own, just like the old days," he commented, earning a hardened glare from me. He knew how much I despised Baron Praxis and the filthy Krimzon Guards that patroled the city, like rabid animal preying on an innocent, miniscule creature. He could sense it from the glare in my eyes and the growing rage inside of me, and he knew the reason as to why I had thoughts of killing that bastard of dictator the moment I saw him. "As I said, you were one of the best he had in the army, and you know it. You were so close to earning the rank of Lieutenant, right on top next to me, if..." He began trailing off at that moment and said nothing more. I stared at him for a long moment, already knowing what he was thinking. Clearly, his statement brought up that particular memory in question, one that (judging from the expression he gave off) he did not like remembering. It was almost surprising to find him acting that way, but then again there was such a thing called "acting" after all.

When another moment came to pass, I sighed and looked away from him and at the ground to avoid eye contact, attempting to push away all the bad memories that once plagued my mind every single second of the day. Not only was it something he hated remembering, but it was something I, too, did not wish to recall as well. At least he and I had something in common: we may look cold hearted on the outside, but we were still...well, sensitive...on the inside, no matter what anyone says.

"No way in Hell am I going back to becoming a Krimzon Guard again," I spoke, breaking the awkward silence between us. "It's one of the reason I became who I am today..." I paused for a moment, deep in thought about the past. "He's one of the reasons a quarter of the city became demolished six years ago. He's the reason why I call myself...a monster. A monster created by the darkest Precursors ever to walk this planet."

"Stop thinking like that, Ciara." Erol commanded, but not in that commanding tone he used on other guards much like the ones around the both of us. It sounded more as the way friends would speak to each other when one puts themselves down. I could assure you, though; Erol and I were not friends...or not anymore, I should say. "You're not a monster, that's for sure. You know I hate hearing you put yourself down like this."

I rolled my eyes at his words.

"Really? I'm not a monster, you say..." I spoke, turning my head to face him.

"You're not," he said, staring at the ground even though we made a small turn into a new district. "It...it hurts...to hear you tell yourself those stupid lies."

"Lies, you say?" I questioned, faking a small laugh. "If I'm not a monster, Erol, then why did it take you and seventy-five percent of the Krimzon Guard army four and a half years to rebuild an entire section of the city due to a...'small explosion', or so the Baron said?" I paused in case he had something to say, but Erol remained silent. "If I'm not a monster, then why have the lives of those who were there that fateful day six years ago not around anymore, erased from the face of this Precursor forsaken planet?" Again, I paused for a little bit longer, but he still remained silent. "One more thing..." I looked away from him. "If I'm not a monster, then why was your pathetic Lieutenant killed in the middle of the night due to...severe lacerations on her chest, arms, legs, and back just before the 'explosion' set off?"

At that moment, the look of fear and anxiety came across his face again as he looked at me.

"Ciara..." He started, but I cut him off.

"It's because of me, that's why!" I shouted, stopping in my tracks out of anger. The guards reacted to my sudden halt of movement by raising their weapons slightly, but did nothing in order to make me move again. They were cautious and ready to take action, but not unless I set them off. "Your Lieutenant is dead along with thousands of other people because of me! You and everyone in this city know that!" He turned slightly toward me. "Because of what that bastard Baron Praxis put in me! Because of what's inside of me!" He remained silent and continued to look at me; his eyes still held a look of fear and anxiety. However, although I could sense my words affected him, but it was not toward me. It was about something else. What it was I could not tell nor did I wish to find out. A sigh escaped my lips as I looked away from him. "It's one of the reasons why I left. One was because I no longer wished to work under that man you call a leader, the man who turned me into a cold blooded killer. And the other..." My eyes narrowed even further, "Well, you should know the second reason...because you brought it upon yourself and allowed it to happen."

That was the last thing I said to him as we made our way to the Palace. Surprisingly, I was able to keep myself under control despite how much I wanted to show off the anger and hatred I had been holding inside of me for so many years. I decided against it, though, knowing it would be pointless if I just stormed through the city in a fit of rage again. I felt I had enough to say to Erol for the time being. For now, I chose to wait until the right moment to really throw my emotions into his face and make him feel horrible for what he did to me. He tore me apart from the inside out and did not even look back to see what the damage had done to me in such a short amount of time. He took my trust and smashed like glass against the cold ground. And to make things worse, he had the nerve to salt old wounds just for the Hell of it when I came back to make amends with him. Well, that was what I always assumed it was. Let us just leave it at the fact he grew impatient. _Impatient_ being the operative word in situations like this.

"Baron Praxis," Erol spoke, breaking my chain of thought for a moment to look back forward. "We've returned with the..." He hesitated for a moment, but went on, "...fugitive, sir."

Obviously, Praxis either did not notice Erol's slight hesitation as he referred to me as "the fugitive" or he simply did not care at that particular moment. Nevertheless, he responded to the Commander's voice by turning around, looking away from the over sized window of the Palace and faced us. He had not changed a bit since the last time I saw him; a strongly built middle-aged man with a brown beard with traces of white, half of his face mechanically replaced due to injuries he sustained during an attack on the Metal Head Nest several years back, and a royal Krimzon Guard uniform. The overall picture of evil stood before my azure eyes, making me glare at him even more. He gave a menacing smile as if he were welcoming me back into his family after so long.

"Ah, Ciara..." He spoke, making me cringe at the sound of his voice. Surprisingly, it was not as bad as it was toward Erol, but it was only because I knew Erol longer than I had known the Baron. Still, if I was forced to choice which I would rather see dead, it would be the Baron. Erol may have been the one to hurt me mentally, but the Baron put me through so much worse. "It's been a long time since we saw each other, has it not?"

"It's just as I said to Erol when I saw him again," I responded, clenching my chained fists tightly. "Not long enough."

A small chuckle escaped him as he dismissed the other guards except for Erol.

"Is that any way to treat a leader of a city?" He questioned. I growled at his words, earning an electrical spark to escape my body. At that moment, Praxis laughed. "It seems as though your powers are still in need of control." He commented. "Maybe a few more days in the DWP will fix that."

"For your information, I've learned to control this..._thing_...you put inside of me." I hissed, holding back the urge to push out of the window and kill him (as much as I wanted to). "Damas told me the only reason why I lose control is because I can't keep my emotions in check. Since he is much wiser than you, that's the belief I have been sticking with for many years. And it's worked perfectly."

"Emotions, he claims..." Praxis rolled his eyes at my words, chuckling. "It still surprises me that you still follow that man you call a leader and think his words are truth. You're like a lost puppy, following whatever man chooses to feed you the most...garbage. How pathetic..."

Another spark of electricity escaped my body and felt my arms shaking slightly as he began speaking ill of Damas.

"At least he didn't pump me full of Dark Eco to a point where I tore the doctors and guards to shreds and nearly killed-!" I cut myself short as I remembered that day many years ago. At that moment, I slowly shrunk back and took a small step back. Erol said nothing during our dispute, but I sensed he was listening intently to what was being said. He, immediately, looked at me as I cut myself off. The Baron, however, took this as an opportunity to reopen and salt more wounds.

"Nearly killed...?" He urged me to go on, but I did not respond. Instead, I turned my head away from him. "You don't remember what you almost did, do you, Ciara?"

"No..." I muttered, "I remember...although I'd rather not." I sensed Erol take a small glance at me for a moment, noticing the tone I did not realize I used: it sounded regretful and pained, as if looking back hurt me a lot more than actually being there. Ignoring his glance, though, I looked back over at the Baron as he slowly made his way over toward us. "I know I almost killed your Commander as well. I'm not stupid."

"Yes, you _almost_ did," he stated, emphasizing the _almost_ just so he could be an ass, "but I know you and Erol are very close to one another, which prevented you from ending his life back then."

My fists clenched at his words, but said nothing in response. He was right, as much as I hated him and did not want to believe what he was saying, but unfortunately it was true. My relationship with Erol many years ago prevented me from killing him that day. Although I was consumed with hatred back then, it was not toward him, but the old Krimzon Guard Lieutenant who worked alongside him. At first, it was the doctors and guards who got in the way of my true target and prevented me from killing the Lieutenant, but in the end Erol prevented me from destroying anything else that was there. All the hatred I felt toward that Lieutenant transformed me into the creature I had kept hidden away from the rest of the world for all of these years, despite how much pain I was in. Nevertheless, that was the past, far away from now. The present was different, and I did not want any unwanted changes for the future ahead of me nor did I expect any. However, there are times when I wish I could go back and change all in my favor.

"I believe you should use the terms 'knew' and 'were'..." I corrected him after a moment of silence. "My relationship with Erol," I closed my eyes, "fell apart due to...personal circumstances."

"My Lieutenant, I presume, was that personal circumstance." The Baron said, making me raise an eyebrow in wonder. "Yes, I know the whole story behind what happened six years ago. How you killed a great fighter and would-have-been leader of the army."

"She deserved the death she got," I hissed, glaring at him as if he were the Lieutenant standing right in front of me. "Her body was covered in scars and she bled to death on the spot. Not only that," A small smirk graced my thin lips, "just to be sure she was dead, her home just so happened to explode and become engulfed in flames. Unfortunately," My smirk vanished, "doing so brought a section of the city along with it."

A small "Humph" escaped the Baron as he turned back around toward the window.

"So many of my people...lost to such an inferno..." He muttered. "It's a shame so many lives were lost to such a...creature," He turned his head toward me a moment before looking out again, "like yourself."

I growled at his words.

"Since when was live bait for the Metal Heads your people?" I questioned. That was what "his people" were like to him; dead weight ready to be eaten by a pack of hungry Metal Heads waiting just outside the city walls. It was no surprise to hear it from someone like me. The people, most likely, knew that better than I ever would. Although I had been here since I was a child, I did not live through the Baron's regime for long before I left to the Wasteland and became a Wastelander under the command of Damas, a true leader of the people. "Last time I checked, they were being fed off to the Metal Heads, while the Krimzon Guard hid away like cowards. If Damas were still in power, more people would still be alive!"

Praxis turned back around to look at me due to my choice of words, but his expression never wavered as he said, "You still follow the orders of the exiled leader. I almost forgot about that little, insignificant detail."

I stood up straight as I remembered my great leader, the real leader of Haven City, who was exiled by the dictator this city was forced to call a ruler.

"Damas has always been a better leader than you ever could be," I spoke, honoring the leader I had grown up with most of my life. "He treated the people as if they were his own family, and he still does today! Unlike you, he helps his people fight against any intruders that try to come in and try to take over their home, not make them suffer and fend for themselves if need be!" At that moment, Praxis turned around and began walking toward me, anger slowly filling his eyes, yet I did not hesitate to continue, "The only thing your people are any good at is running away, screaming in terror, while being chased by a small group of Hopper or Stinger Metal Heads! And you call yourself a leader! Well, you're doing a horrible job at it, Praxis!"

Suddenly, I lost my breath as Praxis grabbed my throat with one large hand. Although it was sudden, the glare in my eyes never left as he began choking me.

"Hold your tongue, you little Wasteland brat!" He snapped, his grip tightening. "I do what I must in order to keep my people safe!"

"Ha!" I spoke weakly as my breath to escape me. "And what is that, might I ask? Your fat ass sitting on your throne doing nothing but staring off into space while the rest of the world goes to Hell? Pathetic!" With those words, his grip tightened, forcing me to take in a breath, only for it to be blocked off by the Baron's hand. "If you really cared about...your people, they wouldn't be...dying of sicknesses and starvation!"

"PRAXIS, RELEASE HER!" Erol exclaimed, a hint of pain hidden in his voice. "You promised you wouldn't hurt her if I brought her back! Stick to your word and let her go!"

Immediately, my head shot into his direction, eyes widened slightly at his words. He convinced the Baron to promise to keep me alive? Erol, of all people that I could think of off the top of my my head, did that? The Baron never made promises to anyone else other than to himself, let alone his own Commander despite being up in ranks. It was a surprise to know he actually made a promise - more like a deal of sorts - to Erol, of all people that he knew and could trust. However, the question remained clear: Why? Why would Erol have the Baron into promising something so petty as to keep me – a fugitive of the city – alive? Why would he go so far as to do such a thing? It was confusing for me to comprehend, but at the moment I was busy losing my breath to a dictator who was unfit to rule. I had to worry about my life more than worry about any promises the Baron makes with people.

Said dictator glared over at Erol for a moment, his grip loosening slightly. Erol glare right back; he reminded me of myself, able to stand up to the Baron without hesitation. They both glared at one another for a long moment, before the Baron growled.

"You're a lucky bastard that I even considered your request, Commander..." He muttered, releasing me immediately and turning to take a few steps away from the both of us. I gasped as I fell to the ground, landing on my hands and knees, before in taking deep breaths and coughing in order to return my breathing to normal. Within seconds, Erol was at my side, one hand was on my back, the other on my left shoulder.

"You alright?" He asked, his voice calmer than before.

I slowly turned my head to look up at him slightly, staring into his amber colored eyes for a long moment.

"Why would you have the Baron promise to keep me alive, Erol?" I questioned, my face remaining blank as I looked at him. "I should be considered worthless by now..."

His eyes were intent and filled with hints of worry. He slowly helped me onto my feet, holding my arm and keeping his hand on my lower back, and said "Because your my friend, and that's what friends do for each other."

My blank expression turned into a glare at his choice of words.

"You realized this out _now_?" I growled. He remained silent, but never looked away from me. My words obviously did not affect him in any way, shape, or form. Instead of trying to make him cringe in guilt, I looked away from him and closed my eyes. "It's a shame you did not realize it six years ago. Things would have been different today."

He looked away from me before sighing.

"Ciara..." He spoke. "There's something I have to tell you..."

I rolled my eyes.

"If it's more of the 'I'm sorry for what happened' crap," it's not going to work." I told him blankly. "Sorry isn't going to change the past magically to make it different." _Although, I wish it did._ "Sorry, but life doesn't work that way."

He chuckled and said, "Although that's something I would say right about now, that's not it."

Slowly, I looked back up at him with a confused expression.

"Is that so...?" I questioned, to which he responded with a small nod. "Well then, what is it?"

He remained silent for a long moment before looking back at me, his amber eyes filled with anxiety but not toward me. However, before a word could escape his lips, the sound of the Palace doors opening echoed the small area. I was about to look over to see who had come in, but a voice broke through the area, a voice I did not expect to hear from again.

"Is there something wrong, Baron Praxis?" The feminine voice spoke, followed by the sound of footsteps against the rug. My face went pale as I slowly looked over in the direction of the voice to see a living nightmare walking toward Erol and I. "I heard yelling and thought the fugitive became loose in throne room."

We remained silent for a long moment, staring at the woman as she approached us at a somewhat slow pace. My entire body grew cold out of shock. It was impossible; the sight before me had to be a hallucination. However, if it were a hallucination, Erol would not have tensed at the voice once it entered the room.

"No..." I muttered as the woman stopped about five feet away from the two of us. Erol, immediately, tensed the second my voice became much lower than usual. This was it; this was the anxiety I saw in his eyes. He was dreading the sight that stood before him, or so I assumed."It can't be..."

The Baron laughed for a brief moment before walking past the two of us and walked over to the woman standing before us.

"Ah, but it is, Ciara..." He spoke, standing next to the woman and placing a large hand on her shoulder. "You remember Rachel, don't you? You know, the Lieutenant you ultimately failed to murder six years ago?"


	4. Therapy

An awkward silence enveloped the room as I stared into the eyes of Rachel, the ever-present and living Lieutenant of the Krimzon Guard. Shock had filled my entire being at the sight of her, not expecting to see her standing there, alive and well despite the fact I nearly killed her six years ago. Her violet colored eyes watched me carefully, but still remained as innocent as I remembered. Her lavender colored hair was pulled back into a high ponytail while her bangs remained in her face, but only covered her forehead and leaving her eyes wide open. Back then, I remembered she used to have short hair, but it looked to have grown longer since I had left, long enough to touch the ground and drag around – hence why it was kept in such a high ponytail. Her attire consisted of a black, sleeveless, skintight tank top made of leather, glistening in the lighting of the room, with red angular designs marked all over it. Two weapon straps - one red and one grey - were across her chest in an X shape, where she held an electric blade on the left side and a sniper rifle with a metallic red and blue tint to it on the right. Dark red shoulder guards protected her namesakes from harm, and she had black, elbow length gloves to cover her hands and forearms. A single red line ran down the center. Black shorts with red stripes were her leg apparel, along with black, knee high combat boots customized with hints of red on the soles and the laces. Although others would not point it out, I could tell she held a pistol securely in one of those boots. To top it off, she had the usual Krimzon Guard tattoos all over her arms and even her legs. Her face remained untouched, much to my slight surprise. However, I was able to spot a small scar running from her chin, down her neck, and concealed by her leather shirt. No doubt it was from me, and there was no doubt in my mind about who this woman was to me.

This was Rachel. She was the woman who ruined _everything_ I once loved.

We stared at one another for a long moment, eyes locked together for what felt like an endless amount of time. It was not until a painstaking minute later that I looked away from her, closing my eyes briefly and taking in one deep breath. The memories of the past threatened to appear in my mind like a flash of lightnighting, but I repressed them for now. Remembering the past caused by the person standing before me was one thing I did not want to do right now, especially with how much hatred I held toward her. It would only lead to a massacre of the Lieutenant, making sure every piece of her body was torn to shreds piece by piece. Instead, in an attempt to ignore the memories and resist those urges, I turned my attention to Erol. My face looked blank to him, but the way he had tensed under my gaze he knew I was beyond furious about the situation I was placed into not only by Praxis, but by him as well. Not only that, but the look on his face clearly told me he knew this would happen. However, another part told me he did not expect it to happen as soon as it did.

"Erol…" I spoke in a somewhat calm tone of voice. It sounded as if I were his commanding officer about to scold him because of something he did horribly wrong. He stared at me, his tension over the limit as I looked up into his amber colored eyes with my dull, but menacing azure orbs. "What…is she doing…_alive_…?"

I heard him swallowed hard at the tone of my voice, but remained calm nonetheless. He may have appeared to be afraid of me, but really he was not. He was never fearful of me, of the frightening expressions I sent to anyone else who pissed me off. That was the only part I respected him for when we first met so many years ago.

"I was…going to tell you…Ciara…" He spoke slowly, "but-"

"But…what," I hissed, interrupting him without even giving him a chance to finish his sentence. The feeling of anger and rage coursed through my veins like raging river rapids during a severe hurricane. For a moment, I thought I felt a bolt of electricity escape my body, but I held back the urge to find out.

Erol remained silent, unsure of what to say any longer to my angered form. Instead, he tore his gaze from my eyes and stared at the ground in front of him. Smart choice. Now, he received the chance to live.

"Hello, Ciara." The voice of that woman entered my voice, making me cringe before looking back at her. If my eyes could kill, she would have been torn to pieces. "It's…been a long time since we last saw one another…hasn't it?" A long, tortured filled silence set in briefly as my gaze remained hard. I made it evident that I wanted her out of here, but it did not seem as though she got the message. "Doesn't seem like…like you've changed much over the past six years...other than your, uh, skin tone, I guess. Heh..." More painful silence as I sneered, clenching my teeth. She appeared nervous as she stood there, trying to make small talk. "So, uh...what brings you back to-"

"Why," I cut her off, knowing "It" would soon begin to take over the longer she stood there, "are you speaking to me as if we were friends?!" As I said that, I felt another jolt of electricity escape me as the anger inside me began to build up little by little. Praxis did nothing other than take a few steps away from us while wearing a content smile on his face. Obviously, he knew what was going to happen at that point. Getting in the way when I was pissed off was one thing the Baron was smart enough to do.

"Ciara…" Spoke Erol, placing a hand on my shoulder as if he were trying to calm me. It did not work, yet I did not reject the hand. I did not wish to lash out on anyone, even if it was Rachel, so help from anyone, friend or foe, was worth it at this point in time. My attempts to hold back the anger were failing, and as I watched Rachel, I could not help but get the feeling to just tear her apart since I was remembering an unwanted past all too soon. Good thing someone like Erol was around to hold me back; because if he was not, Rachel would be dead on the spot.

Rachel blinked at my tone, putting on a confused look.

"What's wrong with you?" She questioned.

My jaw locked into place at the tone of her voice, so innocent and confused. _Kill me_, I thought. _Just kill me now_.

"What's..._wrong_ with me…?" I spoke in a low tone. Then, without even thinking, I was storming my way up to her, Hell breaking loose in my eyes. "What's _**wrong**_ with me?!" I snapped, my arms beginning to shake out of anger. "_You're_ what's wrong with me, you slimy little tramp!" She stared at me as if she had seen a ghost; now her fear was starting to show. "You're the reason I left this Precursor forsaken city in the first place! And it's because of _you_," I poked her chest harshly at that, "that I nearly _killed_ you that day ten years ago, and a second time that night six years ago! Because of what _you_ did!"

"C-Ciara, y-you're scaring me…" She whimpered. I could see through that act like a freshly cleaned window.

"Scaring you? _I'm_ scaring you?! What a damn joke!" I roared. I could feel the anger swelling up; I felt myself changing into a completely different person. "I should've ripped your throat out when I had the chance! _**Both**_ of those times, but I didn't! I just assumed you were dead, but clearly I was wrong!" My gaze hardened. "Maybe I'll finish the job right now! Then I wouldn't have to worry about you anymore!"

"But I don't know what I did wrong, Ciara! I swear!" She exclaimed, taking one small step away from me. "I-If I did, I'm really sorry! But I'm telling you I have no idea what I did to hurt you!" I would have smirked at the pathetic excuse for a Lieutenant, but I was not in the mood. Instead, anger took control as my still cuffed hands reached out and took a tight grip on her throat, suffocating her as I lifted her off the ground. I was shocked by the strength that had overtaken me, surprised to be able to lift someone who was about the same height as me. However, due to the anger and rage coursing through my veins, I could care less.

"**You know damn well what you did, you filthy concubine!**" I shouted, no longer sounding like myself, but as the creature that slept inside. "**You took **_**everything**_** away from me! Everything I had, everything I thought I wanted to be! You took it all for yourself and played goodie-two-shoes for all the guards! Just so you could bed them and get whatever you wanted!**"

"CIARA, PUT HER DOWN!" Erol exclaimed. I heard his voice, but he was completely ignored by the demon that was now speaking. "It" was taking over at that point, the hidden anger that was left alone for so long, the hatred I felt for Rachel, was now bursting out of every fiber of my being, and I could not control myself even if I wanted to. I wanted to slap myself across the face in order to snap out of this unwanted trance. Damas' words swam through my head at a mile a minute, telling me to keep my emotions in check and never allow the creature to take control. Unfortunately, it was no longer working in my favor. For once in a very long time, I felt truly scared for my life. As much as I wanted Rachel out of my life for good, I did not want it to be this way. Not when "It" was moving the pieces.

"**You expect me to forgive you just because you say you're sorry? Do you really think apologizing it going to fix anything that happened?**" I felt myself snarl in disgust and growing fury. "**It's not! It'll never fix anything!**" I felt my hand twitch a bit, telling me that I was ready to choke the life out of her in that second. Despite my attempts at resisting, there was nothing I could do at that point. "**Only your death will amend this issue between us! Only then!**"

"W-wait…!" Rachel breathed, gripping my wrists as she begged for her life. "P-please…Don't kill me…! DON'T KILL ME!"

Suddenly, a gunshot sounded throughout the throne room, the sound bouncing off the walls and creating an echo around us. My eyes widened instantly as a sharp pain had struck my side, causing me to drop the shaken Rachel and listen to her collapse to the ground. She gasped for breath as she pushed herself away from me, coughing a few times in an attempt to catch her breath. I glanced down at the spot where the pain was coming from, trying to pinpoint what it was that caused it. It was another needle like bullet, just like the one that was shot at me on the day I tried to escape back to the Wasteland. However, this one seemed to be working a lot faster than the other. I could tell by the sudden swimming feeling in my head. Removing the needle and placing my other hand on the spot that surged with some pain. I looked up at Rachel, who simultaneously looked at me with a fearful gaze. It was her reaction that suddenly made me glare at her again, toss the object that injected me, and start moving toward her again. However, I did not get very far.

Within seconds, my vision started to fade, and I was barely able to walk in a straight line. Rachel, seeing as how I was moving toward her, tried to move back again, but stopped when she realized I was started to become dizzy. Still, that did not deter the demon in me that sought her demise. My legs attempted to move toward her again, but was only able to take one step before stumbling. The hateful glare still radiated in my azure eyes, but deep down I just wanted to get out of there. I wanted to get away from her. Even if I wanted her dead, I wanted to do it with _my_ mindset, not "It"'s. After a moment of trying to get rid of the vertigo, my legs started to give way. Instead of moving toward her again, I used what little strength I had left to start moving backwards. Everything was spinning violently, and it would be a matter of time before I blacked out just like the first time. After another minute or so, I could barely keep my footing in check any longer. Instead of wasting my time attempting to stay standing, my legs gave way and I started to fall back toward the ground. However, I did not hit the floor like I had expected.

Before that could happen, I felt someone catch me just in the nick of time. I could not see who it was due to the drug blurring my vision and the inability to make out anything anymore. At that point, my body had become calm and relaxed, but I knew I was to black out sooner than later.

Through gritted teeth, I muttered a small, "I'm…sorry…" It was mere seconds before the drug took over completely, and for a split moment, I could have sworn I felt something wet fall down my cheek just before everything went black.

_**General POV**_

"I told Rachel using my anesthetics would keep her calmer than the crap she uses, but no every listens to an expert."

Erol stared in the mirror of his bathroom, glaring at himself for Precursors knew how long. He had been like that ever since Ciara had lashed out on Rachel and nearly tore her apart like a piece of tissue paper, and just thinking on it made him cringe.

He hated seeing Ciara that way, so angered and upset to a point where a killing spree was more possible than an attack from the Metal Heads lurking about behind the walls. He could sense the torture, the pain, the suffering coursing through her veins as she realized Rachel had been alive for Ciara's six-year absence. At the same time, though, he could tell by the shaking of her muscles that, no matter how much she hated Rachel, she did not want that creature to take her chance. Underneath all that fury, hatred and resentment that had driven the fugitive over the years, he could still see the young Wastelander trying to fight off her demon side despite everything she felt toward the Lieutenant of the Krimzon Guard. He wanted to help her fight it, to put a stop to it, but he knew she would not want it nor would that creature inside of her allow any help from the outside, no matter who or what it was. That was what made her so distant from everyone, even her own friends, even him. It was because of...whatever the thing was...that made her into who she was.

Ever since she had that creature placed, no, _forced_ inside of her by the Baron ten years ago – one year before she ran away the first time, back when things turned for the worst and she went to the Wasteland – she had become even more distant from society than when she was younger. That was what he had assumed based on what he saw that day so many years ago. Since he had not seen her in so long, he assumed she had become more open to people than when she was here last time – meaning six years ago, when she returned only to run away a second time, appearing very rarely in the six years she had been gone. He did not know. He wished he did, much like when he knew her in the past, but he did not. He hated the fact he had nearly forgotten her personality after the events from so many years ago, back when he and Ciara had joined the Krimzon Guard together. Back when he met Rachel, and Ciara began despising her for reasons unknown to him.

Amber eyes narrowed almost harshly. _Why_, he thought, _did it have to be this way?_

Remembering the person speaking to him, a sigh escaped the Commander as he exited his bathroom, rubbing his eyes with his index finger and thumb.

"I don't get it…" He muttered, wandering over to his king sized bed and sitting on the edge, allowing his hand to drop onto his lap. "I just don't get it…"

"You don't get why _my_ anesthetics work better than Rachel's?" Questioned the voice. "I thought the proof was very clear?" Erol glanced at the young woman, appearing to be around the same age as him, with jaw length, teal colored hair cut evenly and professionally. Her violet, almond shaped eyes sent him a confused gaze, referring back to her question. Unlike the Krimzon Guard, she occasionally either wore a long cloak like outfit that only had a hood to it or her white, laboratory-esque uniform. The back had the KG symbol sewn on it, but her attire was hidden from his view. Why she chose such a strange attire to wear to her job was a mystery, even to him, but it was only on small occasions that she chose to wander without it.

He shook his head and said, "No…" He paused a moment, noting the raising of the woman's eyebrow, before he shrugged. "Well, yes, but that's not what I'm talking about."

The woman shrugged, accepting the answer, before leaning forward and placing her elbows against her knees to support her upper body.

"Well then, what are you talking about?" She questioned. It took Erol a moment to answer.

"You _know_ who I'm talking about…" He said, falling back onto his bed and folding his hands on his stomach in a relaxed manner.

A small chuckle escaped the woman.

"Yeah, I do, but I wanna hear you say who it is…" She teased, smirking at the Commander.

He sent her a small glare. She always enjoyed playing mindtricks on him, and he always hated it.

"Are you my therapist or my torturer?" He questioned.

She laughed at his comment.

"Both," she responded, leaping off the bed and wandering toward the window of Erol's room. "I'm your therapist because of your so called 'relationship problems,' and I'm your torturer because...well, sometimes I can be, and it's fun."

He sat up in his bed. "And you're torturing me because…?" He asked, an annoyed tone eminent in his voice.

The woman looked over her shoulder at him, a smile on her face, before she answered, "Like I said, because I can and it's fun!"

Erol glared at her, but felt a small smile tug on the edge of his lips. Although a therapist and a torturer (according to Erol), this woman knew how to find ways to cheer him up, even if he did not look like it.

"Alright, smartass, what's the _real_ reason?" He smirked at his words as she glared at him.

"Well, _smartass_," she mocked him as she looked back out the window on the far left of his bed, "the real reason is what I told you before." She looked back at him. "You are hopelessly confused about your relationship."

He rolled his eyes before falling back onto the bed.

"You're not helping, Casey," he grumbled.

The woman, named Casey, glanced over her shoulder to glance at him again.

"If you would listen to me, Erol, these problems would have been dealt with a long time ago." She pointed out. Erol groaned in annoyance, earning a glare from Casey. "Quit being a baby, damn it, and listen!" She snapped at him, not caring if he was a commanding official or not.

Erol, immediately, sat up, a glare set in his eyes as he said, "I'm not acting like a damn baby."

Casey rolled her eyes.

"Will you listen for once in your life and quit being stubborn, Erol?" She questioned as if she were scolding a child. "I'm being serious."

He got up and walked away from her.

"Why should I? The only thing you've been telling me to do is leave Rachel altogether," he responded. "But you don't understand. Rachel and I have been together since I joined the Krimzon Guard and-"

"You feel connected to her, you think she's the one, and all this other cheesy bullcrap that you hear on those stupid opera TV shows!" Casey interrupted instantly, knowing she heard him ramble on about how great a person Rachel supposedly was. She heard him rant and rave, fortunately not like some love sick twelve year old, about his relationship with Rachel as if she were watching a rerun of old romantic soap opera shows that people seemed way too fascinated in. She always hated them; the only reason she knew about it was because Rachel had forced her to see a few episodes. It was not until after the fifth episode that Rachel realized Casey left the room...five minutes into the first episode. "You _thought_ you fell in love with her," she went on, "but you never actually did."

Erol looked over his shoulder and glared at her.

"I'm _still_ in love with her!" He snapped. "And I've been in love with Rachel since we met!"

She laughed at that in a mocking manner. "That's the best joke I've heard all day!"

"What makes you think that?" He questioned.

"Obviously, you've forgotten about your best friend, Ciara! The one person who hasn't left your thick skull since the day you two met!" Silence briefly enveloped the both of them the second Ciara's name was uttered. The expression on Erol's face dramatically changed from a glare to shock. "That's what you don't get. You don't get why Ciara is so upset to a point where she wants to kill Rachel every time she lays her eyes on her. She's been like that ever since the both of you joined the Krimzon Guard, and you said so yourself."

He looked away from her, shaking his head.

"She was overreacting over Rachel, claiming she was trying to get in the way of our friendship…" He spoke in a low tone of voice before looking back at Casey. It was almost as if he was unsure about his words. "But she was wrong and still is. Rachel never got in between us, but Ciara was too blind to understand that, so she left." He looked back at Casey to find she was wearing a disgusted look. "What?" 

"How could you even say that? Let alone think it?" She questioned him. "Ciara was your best friend since childhood, and you thought she was overreacting about something she felt was hurting your friendship!" Casey shook her head. "Personally, I don't think she was overreacting at all. Like I said, she was only trying to protect your relationship with her. She didn't want the bond you two had to be severed by that…that _woman_."

"First of all, _Rachel_ has a name," he corrected her, earning a small "Not to me." from Casey, before going on. "And second of all, I never wanted that bond to be severed either."

"Oh really?" She questioned in mock surprise, crossing her arms over her chest. "Then why don't you think twice about what you told her that day nine years ago, you know, _before_ she ran away?"

Erol looked away from her once more, remembering the words he had spoken to her. They repeated multiple times in his mind, but for some reason, it was not clicking in his head that something was wrong with it.

"I don't see a problem with my choice of words," he told her, earning another hard glare from Casey. "I'm sorry, but I don't."

"You don't know how 'What had happened in the past means nothing to me now' is a bad thing?" She challenged.

Her words made Erol cringe ever so slightly, and she noticed that immediately. The way she stated those words, the words he said to Ciara the day before she disappeared and went to the Wasteland, struck him to the core. For some reason, it still had no effect on him. He had to admit his words most likely caused her to run off the way she did. However, he simply told her the truth, or what he assumed was the truth, and nothing more. Despite that, though, he did cherish his friendship with Ciara greatly, never wanting it to be broken, but he assumed that was all it was: a close friendship between himself and Ciara. He did not know that, to Ciara, it had become something entirely different. He did not know she had turned it into something else. Of course, he could see it in her eyes she was not obsessed with him, but she did seem to grow something toward him. He could not blame her; living in the streets without a family for as long as she did was hard on her, and made her feel…_alone_. Although he turned out to be a heartless asshole today - and yes, he would actually admit that - back then he actually cared about what had happened to his close female friend. In fact, he still felt like he had to worry about what she was doing or where she was. Thing was, she did not want his sympathy, not after what had happened so many years ago.

Casey watched as Erol's head slowly lowered ever so slightly.

"Erol…?" She spoke, only to receive silence from the Commander. She stared at him for another moment before walking over to him and standing right next to him. "Erol," she spoke, trying to grab his attention. She looked at him to find he had a dazed expression on his face, as if he were in a completely different world. Her expression softened as she placed a hand on his shoulder, grabbing his attention and making him look at her. "I can see that you're upset," she started, removing her hand from his shoulder, "and I refuse to see you like this. You aren't happy, whether you're with Rachel or not." She looked away briefly before looking back at him. "To be honest...I think you belong with Ciara, and-"

"She hates me, Casey," he interrupted her. "Why would you i_ever_/i think that it's possible for us to be together? And besides, I'm with Rachel."

Casey now wore a determined expression, ignoring his last comment.

"Because I can make it possible," she said as headed for the door. "You've already told me about your past with Ciara, so I'm going to get _her_ side of the story and see her intake about it."

His eyes widened slightly as the door slid open for her.

"How are you going to do that?" He questioned, making her stop in her tracks.

She looked back at him with a smile.

"Therapists have their way of getting the information they want," she told him, before turning back around and leaving a dazed Commander to watch where she was standing. He may have been able to tell his side of the story from what had happened between the two of them, but he did those things out of stupidity and without thinking. Now, she was going to hear Ciara's side of the story, and she was going to get what she wanted, whether Ciara wanted to talk about it or not.

His eyes narrowed.

"No way," he said to himself aloud, crossing his arms over his chest with a smirk. "She won't talk. She's not as stupid as me." At that moment, his face went blank, thinking about the comment he just made. "Did I just…" He trailed off before frowning. "Damn it…"

_**Ciara's POV**_

"_Ciara, it's time to wake up…" I groaned at the voice before opening my eyes, staring up at the mask of the Krimzon Guard. Immediately upon looking at him, my eyes widened before getting up and pushing myself away from him._

_It was that time once again; just looking at him woke me up instantly. It had already been an entire year since the experimentation of the Dark Warrior Program started, and I was being forced into the program without a chance of getting out. Even after some well deserved breaks in between session, I was still in pain from every experiment ever performed on me in the year since it started. The Baron decided to make me his next experiment to make sure it was safe to use on others, that and to teach me a lesson about respecting higher authority. At the time, he saw me as a threat amongst the Krimzon Guard, and decided to harness the rebellious nature I had and turn toward the Metal Heads. In other words, he wanted to turn me into a weapon. Despite my immediate refusal, he commanded the guards to take me to the prisons without say otherwise. Erol had tried to stop him, claiming that using me as a weapon would not solve anything, but Praxis did not listen to him. Rachel, on the other hand, remained silent and did nothing to help me. She believed the Baron's word was law, and decided against defying his word._

_I was not surprised; she was always the Baron's stupid little pet, always following him around like a lost little puppy looking for a home._

_"No, please!" I begged as they approached me. "N-not today! Please! I'm still in pain from the other day! I need time to heal!"_

_"Doesn't matter," the guard responded harshly, grabbing me by my prison uniform and lifting me off my feet. "Baron's orders. He thinks this is the day you'll finally become our little weapon against those bastard Metal Heads."_

_"I don't wanna be used as a weapon," I shouted but still with a bit of confidence and defiance. I felt so weak and defenseless due to all of the experimentation performed on me. It was hard to even walk on my own two feet without crying inside. Never in my life had I felt like this before, and it hurt to know I felt weak against the Baron's rule since I become his little pet. "I would rather be dead than be his weapon!"_

_"That can be arranged," he muttered, releasing his grip on my uniform, but grabbing my arm firmly and pulling me out of the cell._

_"No! Please, I don't want this!" I exclaimed, struggling against his grip. "Please! Just let me go! PLEASE!"_

"Ciara, wake up!"

My eyes shot open as I sat up from the bed I was apparently lying on. Scanning the room silently but quickly, memories of the night ten years ago poured into my mind, filling me with the nightmares of fear and loneliness before the searing pain of having the demon implanted into me. It had been years since I last felt that way, so scared and alone, and I was sure glad it did not come back today. However, as I sat there staring at the grey metal walls of the cell, those feelings returned to me within seconds from taking it all in. I could feel my hands shaking a bit as my gaze fell to my lap, the urge to hug them suddenly rising the second my eyes fell upon them. I did not want to experience the events from that day; I did not want to remember a past filled with nightmares, pain, and torture all over again. Hell, I did not even want to think of my future because I was afraid of what it was going to be like! It was bad enough that I nearly became that monster again, but to deal with the memories of the past was entirely different story altogether.

However, instead continuing those thoughts and reliving those terrible and dark times, they were abruptly broken by something tapping my shoulder, bringing me back to reality as if I was being pulled away after nearly stepping on a bear trap. I jumped as my head shot toward whoever had poked me, my heart beat rising with anxiety. Instead of coming face to face with a Krimzon Guard, I found myself staring at a young woman, looking to be a few years older than me, with teal colored hair that was kept back in a low ponytail and wearing a dark colored cloak. Her bangs were parted in the middle and framed her face. Her eyes were violet, and she wore a small smile on her face as she stared at me. It actually looked…friendly. Why would she be smiling at someone, or something, like me?

"Umm…C-can I help you with something?" I asked, staring at her oddly.

She stood upright and placed her hands on her hips.

"Yes, yes you can." She spoke in a matter-of-fact tone of voice. "I would like you to…tell me a little about yourself. Personal things. And you can start anywhere you like."

At that moment, I glared at her. Was I really asked to just spill my guts about everything that I went through?

"Is there a particular reason as to _why_ you want to know," I questioned, sounding pissed. No woman was going to come invading my personal bubble without a good explanation.

She continued to smile at me, as if she were enjoying this.

"Yes," she responded. "But first, I'd like to introduce myself as a better reason." Her smile grew. "My name is Casey, and I'm your going to be _your_ personal therapist."


	5. A Deal

I blinked a few times at the words that were spoken to me, still registering what she had said to me. The woman, who referred to herself as Casey, simply stood there. She had on a comforting smile, as if making sure her presence was not making me uncomfortable. However, the fact that she brought up her occupation sort of bothered me. This woman, this stranger, was going to be my personal therapist? Since when was it decided that I needed one in the first place? My eyes narrowed briefly. Did Praxis send her here to mess with my head, or did she actually come here of her own accord? The second one was highly doubtful, but the Baron was certainly not one to go sending someone that would help me. That only rose another question: did Erol send her to make sure I did not lash out again like before with Rachel? It seemed like the most logical explanation, but why would he go so far as to send a therapist?

As far as I knew, I did not need to tell my problems to someone I did not know, especially when they just ask me to tell them my life's story as if I was an open book. That was what bothered me even more than having her tell me that she was going to be my therapist. I did not need some woman coming into my life just to get me to spill all of my darkest secrets whenever she wanted to hear them. Just because it was her job to listen to things like that did not mean she would get to hear that. It was none of her business to begin with, anyway, therapist or not. However, knowing her job, she would not be going anywhere until she got the information she needed or wanted out of me. Even if she did get me to tell her personal information, what would she use it for? Would she humiliate me for the Baron's sick pleasure? Would she laugh about it with Erol, or even Rachel?

"Therapist..." I repeated slowly and in a questioning tone, as if I was still trying to figure her out.

She nodded in response and replied, "That's correct." She moved over to sit next to me on the cold metal bed I had grown used to in a short amount of time. "Your therapist."

Immediately, my eyes narrowed into a hardened glare.

"I…_do not_…need a therapist…" I told her coldly, getting up from my bed and walking away from her. Although the prison door was wide open, giving me the chance to escape while I had the opportunity, there was no use. With how much notoriety I had on my head, there would be no way I would be able to get out of here alive.

She giggled at my words and crossed her leg over the other, leaning back on her hands.

"Oh, come on." She spoke in a bit of a teasing tone. "Someone like you surely needs at least one person to talk to when you're locked in a cell as cold as this one…"

I turned to glare at her.

"Thanks, but no thanks." I told her, "I work out _my_ problems _by myself_…"

The woman sighed, getting up from the bed slowly and facing me with her hands behind her back..

"There's no way I'm leaving unless I get what I want out of you," she remarked, "and that's for you to talk about your personal life and problems."

Frustrated, I turned around and slowly made my way toward her.

"Why should I, someone who is more than capable of killing you where you stand, tell my problems to a complete stranger who claims to be a therapist?" I questioned harshly, standing in front of her with a hard glare. "My problems are none of your business to begin with, and telling them to you won't get you anywhere. Give me one good reason why I should even allow you to come into my life like this!" She was unfazed by the deadly look I gave her. She looked as if her were not afraid of me at all, as if she knew what to expect from me long before we met. The only other person who have acted in the same manner would be Erol. My eyes widened as the flaming haired Commander entered my mind, realization clicking, before glaring and asking, "Erol put you up to this…didn't he?"

Casey smirked at my words as she placed a hand on her chin.

"As interesting as that sounds," she mumbled, "he did not. In fact, _I_ put myself up to this." I raised an eyebrow at her and remained silent. Then, her eyes widened a bit, but I knew she was just playing innocent. "Oh, where are my manners?" She extended her hand toward me. "I guess I should have told you," Her head lowered a bit, but her smile remained clear and her eyes were still connected to mine, "that I'm also Erol's personal therapist."

Immediately, my eyes widened at her words.

"Erol's…personal…therapist…" I muttered questioningly. She nodded in response, grinning as if I had solved the big mystery. My eyes narrowed even more, turning into the death glare I had grown used to showing. "So…the bastard _did_ put you up to this?" I turned away from her once again. "I should have guessed."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" She walked over to stand in front of me. "Erol didn't even _want_ me to do this in the first place. He claims you're not going to tell me anything I want to know about you."

"There's nothing _to_ know about me!" I snapped, turning away from her again. From time to time, I glanced at the open door of my prison, but I still chose not to leave the confines of my cell. "There's nothing special about what I do or who I work for! I'm a fugitive, an enemy of the entire city!" I turned to her sharply. "Fugitives do fugitive stuff! That's it!"

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed, yet that damned smile returned to her face.

"That is true," she muttered before looking at me with a serious expression, "but fugitives with a _painful past_ do fugitive stuff, too."

My eyes widened slightly at her words before I slowly asked, "What…are you talking about?"

She smirked, as if she caught me in a corner and was ready to attack, before saying, "I know about your past, Ciara...for the most part, anyway." She started walking toward the opened cell with her hands behind her back again. "I know about the events of ten years ago, nine years ago, and even six years ago. I know everything about those few important dates to write a book about it." I turned my head to look at her, watching her for a long moment as she exited the cell. Then, she stopped, sensing that I was still in the cell and not following behind her. Silence came between us before she turned around and looked at me. Her eyebrow raised before she asked, "Are you coming?"

I blinked a few times, glancing about the cell a moment, before saying, "I can't leave my cell. As much as I hate the Baron and want to defy him, I'd rather not get in even more trouble than I already am." She laughed at my words, earning a light glare from me. "What's so funny?"

When she stopped laughing, she looked forward again before saying, "It's funny how you think I really give a damn about that bastard of a leader." My eyes widened as she started walking again. "Just because I work under his command doesn't mean I like it here or even like him as a ruler."

I blinked for a moment, relaying the words that were just spoken and making sure I heard them right, before narrowing them a bit. I was not as surprised as I thought I would be when I heard her say that, since she may have been here for some time. The former Commander - I could not remember his name now, which started to bother me a bit - quit his job as Commander, leaving to join the ranks of the Underground, all because he did not like what the Baron was doing to innocent people in the city. He hated the Baron just as much as the next person, just as much as she probably did let alone myself. The only difference between her and the former Commander was that she chose to stay here; she chose against leaving and joining the Underground herself. As far as I knew, it was probably because she was Erol's therapist. Had she decided to leave like the previous Commander did, then things would probably be a little different.

My mind began to wander at that point, questions raising almost instantly. Why in the name of the Precursors would this woman, or Casey as I should call her, would she choose to be Erol's therapist instead of going off to join the former Commander and the Underground? Why would she decided to deal with the Baron and his cruel reign instead of trying to bring him down like the rebels? Did the Commander, of all the people I knew, actually have problems in need of serious attention from someone like her? I did not want to think that was the case, merely because Erol was not the type to ask for the assistance of a therapist. That being said, was she there because she chose to be there, helping with his problems of her own accord? It was a good possibility, but as I mentioned before Erol was not one to talk about his problems to just anyone. However, people changed as time goes on; I knew that all too well, as much as I did not like it. Was it possible he reconsidered talking to someone during my six-year absence from Haven? In fact, was it during the three year absence after my first departure?

I had to know, and she knew the answers I wanted to hear.

My eyes narrowed as I began to follow her slowly. She did not say anything, letting me know I was allowed to speak.

"Why, might I ask," I slowly started, "are you Erol's therapist in the first place?"

She laughed as she slowed her pace, allowing me to catch up to her.

"I had a feeling you would ask something like that," she stated. I did not say anything to that as she continued. "Well, I guess it'd be better to start from the beginning."

"Why the beginning?" I questioned as I caught up to her. "Why not answer the question?"

She looked at me and said, "If I simply tell you, it won't exactly explain my reasons as clearly as I would like." I rolled my eyes and waved my hand lightly, letting her go on. "Anyway, I joined the Krimzon Guard Medical Team eight years ago, helping the guards who were mentally scarred from the things they've seen here." I was not all that surprised by that; some of the shit that went down here would make a grown man cry. "Surprisingly, the Baron decided to be a little 'sympathetic' at one point and hired me to the Medical Team to keep the army in the right state of mind, or decide to dismiss them, which did not happen very often." She giggled. "Of course, I may not have been a doctor, but since when has the Baron ever cared, you know?" I shrugged a bit as she continued, "Anyway, a few months into my days as the new therapist, the former Commander, Torn," _That's what his name was_, "left the KG and joined the Underground to fight against the Baron. A few days afterwards, Erol took his position, and Rachel was his right hand man, or woman in this case." She noticed the angered look that came into my eyes at the mentioning of Rachel's name, but said nothing about it. "Moving on, I started to take a keen interest in Erol, sensing there was something up with him. I didn't really confront him about anything until two years later." I thought for a long moment about what she said until she spoke, "I should tell you that it was a few days after you returned and ran away again."

My head shot to her, eyes widened, as I quickly asked, "You were there when I came back?"

She nodded.

"I was," she said. "I was even in the infirmary room that same night when…" She trailed off, knowing not to go any further. I did not say anything, but knew what she was talking about. "Anyway, Erol was in a state of depression for quite time, but he played off well enough that no even noticed at all." She smirked. "But I did. I noticed it the first day after the whole...you know, 'explosion' thing occured."

With a small "Humph," I muttered, "How could I forget _that_ incident...?"

She simply smiled with what I assumed was sympathy before continuing on with her story. "A few days after the ordeal took place, I decided to confront him when he was alone and asked what was the matter. He told me it was none of my business, naturally. That is, until I told him I was now his personal therapist, much like I did with you. He did not care at first and said nothing at all, but eventually, as time went on, he started talking. Since then, we've been 'therapy buddies,' as I like to say."

"That's…" I started, before smirking a bit, "that's quite impressive. You got a cold, heartless man like Erol to talk."

"It was not easy, but it was worth it." She crossed her arms over her chest. "He told me all about the events that took place ten years ago, and then about what happened a year later before I joined in."

I nodded once before looking away and asking hesitantly, "What...did he say?"

She did not respond to that, as if she was thinking about what to say next. Instead, she stopped walking a moment and kept her head low. I stopped and simply watched her as a small smirk appeared on her face. Immediately, I did not like where this was going.

"I'll tell you everything I ever spoke to Erol about those days, and even about the three important events," she started, looking at me with a mischievous expression, "if you tell me everything about _your_ past."

My eyes widened before turning into a hardened glare. How did I know she would pull that one on me?

"Absolutely not," I hissed, walking past her and toward my cell once again. "I had a feeling you would do something like this to me."

"That makes you very smart," she responded with a giggle.

I stopped in my tracks and sighed, turning back around to face her.

"Why do want to know so much about someone like me?" I inquired. "What's so important that you want to know?"

At this, she slowly turned around, her eyes holding seriousness and honesty.

"I want to hear _your_ side of the story," she spoke. I blinked once, confused by what she meant, as she continued, "Some of the things I heard from Erol...I find hard to believe. They sounded ridiculous coming from him. However," She smirked in a friendly manner, "if I heard _your_ side of the story, your side of the whole situation, I may be able to put two and two together and figure it all out. I may be able to help you both with your problems." I blinked again, still not fully understanding what she was talking about. She noticed that and sighed, closing her eyes in the process. "I guess I'll have to explain further." She looked at me and placed her hand on her hip. "For one, Erol thinks you overreacted that day six years ago as well as nine years ago." I growled angrily as she continued, "I don't think you actually 'overreacted,' but you reacted in a way you felt was the right thing to do."

"It _was_ the right thing to do!" I snapped. "He forgot about everything we lived up to, and I gave him a second chance and he blew it! Because of…_her_!"

She blinked once before realization hit her.

"Ah, Rachel…" She said, walking over to me at a slow pace. "I never did like that woman either. Never trusted her, especially around Erol." My eyes widened with slight shock as she continued, "I heard her opinions from those days as well." She paused briefly. "She thinks you overreacted, too."

I rolled my eyes.

"Why am I not surprised," I muttered as she stopped in front of me. "Everything that witch says Erol will believe…"

She turned to me before saying, "But there's something about her that seems…off when it came to six years ago, and even the other events as well…"

I blinked and asked, "What do you mean 'off'?"

She stopped a few feet in front of me and looked away from me for a long moment, smiling devilishly, before saying, "I'll tell you more if you start talking about your past~"

I growled and lowered my head.

"Why am I not surprised," I repeated myself, staring at the ground.

She was smart, very smart actually. She planned all of this out way before she even arrived here. She planned to tell me information I wanted to hear, but would not get into detail unless I started talking about my past with her. Her intentions were quite clear, though; she wanted to compare the stories Erol told her about what happened one those specific dates and see which seemed more reasonable. That, or she wanted to use the information to prove something. If that was the case, what was she trying to prove? That one thing was not exactly clear to me. It had to be something important, but what it was just was not clear enough for me to know or possibly understand right now. Nevertheless, I could tell she was on my side in the situation; her distaste for both the Baron and Rachel were clear enough for me. She could not have lied to me, as the look in her eyes would have given her away the second she started speaking. For now, I could trust her.

I thought for a long moment, before an idea popped into my mind. I blinked a few times before the plan formulated into something that could possibly work out for both of us. At least, that was what I was hoping for.

"I say we should make a deal with one another, and it'll start tomorrow," I told her, breaking the intense silence between us. She glanced at me with interest. Bingo.

"Go on," she pressed.

I looked away from her for a long moment before glancing back.

"We switch out every day just to be fair for the both of us," I told her, earning a confused look from her.

"What do you mean," she asked.

"We switch out who tells what to the other," I explained a bit further. She still seemed a bit confused by my wording, so I went on. "Tomorrow, I'll tell you something from my past, starting from the very beginning, say…the day I first met Erol." She shrugged and nodded, liking the idea so far. "And the next day, you tell me something that I want to know. It can be anything I want, so don't try to skirt around it." She crossed her arms over her chest, laughing a bit. "I think it sounds like an appropriate plan and fits both of our needs."

"Sounds like it," she commented.

I extended my hand toward her, a small smirk falling upon my lips.

"So…do we have a deal?" I inquired. She stared at my hand for a long moment before looking back at me. "Don't worry, I don't bite," I joked.

She returned the smirk as she took my hand and shook it. "Oh, I know you don't."


	6. Friend, Foe, and Something Else

**_General POV_**

"What did you say?" Erol stared at Casey with a look of surprise on his face. The young therapist smirked at his expression, enjoying the look on his face at her success with speaking to Ciara.

She had explained to him about the deal she made with the young fugitive, explaining what the two were going to do every day from that point onward, or until she learned everything she wanted to learn about the fugitive's past to figure everything out. Erol was quite surprised with the luck Casey had with Ciara, shocked in fact, to find someone like Casey actually getting something, let alone _anything_, out someone as secluded and secretive as Ciara. It especially surprised him because it only took an hour to do it. Judging by the look on the Commander's face, he expected Ciara to be a little more stubborn and put up more of a challenge for the therapist, enough for Casey to give up and try again some other time. Instead, Casey proved to outsmart the quick thinking and nimble Ciara without much trouble to befin with. It sounded as if Casey got what she wanted out of the fugitive, for the time being rather easily. It did not sound like the Ciara he knew so well, but there was nothing he could do about it other than sit and wait for the future to come.

"_I said_ we made a deal to start talking about what we want to know about the other tomorrow," she explained for the second time, slowly down just to make sure he understood what she was saying. When his expression did not change, she sighed. "Need I repeat myself once again?"

Blinking once, he shook his head as he walked past her.

"But how," he questioned almost urgently. "She's much too strong-willed to just talk to anyone about something as personal as her past."

Casey shrugged as she turned to face him, putting on a playful and childlike grin, and said, "I told her I was your therapist and even explained how I became the therapist you know and love today ."

Erol gave her a blank expression, and her grin grew ever so slightly.

"You're _hilarious_," he spoke in a sarcastic tone.

She shrugged and went on, "She even wanted to know what you said to me about everything that had happened." He blinked at her words. "That was one way I got her into a corner. I told her if she wanted to know what said, she would have to tell me what I wanted to know."

He stared at her for a long moment.

"_And_...?" He pressed.

Her face fell into a small frown and said, "Her strong-willed side of her kicked in, and she refused at first."

He chuckled. "Now _there's_ the Ciara I remember," he muttered to himself.

She noticed the look in his eyes as he said that - very distant and almost...happy - but said nothing as she went on.

"I had to try again somehow," she told, walking toward the window looking over the city. "I told her about how I felt something was up with Rachel."

He turned to look at her the moment the Lieutenant's name came up.

"You brought up Rachel?" He asked quickly.

Casey nodded.

"Yes, yes I did." Her eyes raised as she looked back on the moment she mentioned Rachel to Ciara. "Surprisingly enough, she did not rant about her for even a second. The only thing she worried about was what she had to say."

He stared at her for another moment before walking up to her.

"What did you say about Rachel?" He inquired.

She turned around to look at him just as he stopped in front of her.

"I told you already. I only brought up the fact that something was up with her," she explained to the Commander. "And then...nothing."

Erol became confused at that.

"Nothing else?" She shook her head in response. He paused a moment before asking, "Why nothing?"

"Because I left after Ciara and I made our deal, and there was no reason to."

"And...she didn't care?"

"Nope." She, suddenly, remembered something. "I almost forgot! We're meeting tomorrow so she can tell me about her past, starting with the day you two met." She shrugged. "Who knows? Maybe starting from the beginning won't be so bad, especially since iyou/i never told me how you two..." She trailed off as she looked at Erol, who stood there silently for a long moment before walking past her, staring out the window, and at the city below. She watched him walk past her. "Erol?"

"Why?" He suddenly asked out of the blue, throwing off the therapist for a second. Before she could ask what he meant, he went on. "Why are you doing this?" She raised an eyebrow in wonder, but once again remained silent. "You barely know her at all, and yet you're trying to get her to talk about the past." He returned the look, but his was filled with curiosity. "Why?"

She stared at him for a long moment before looking forward. It was not until a brief while later that she started to chuckle. Erol still remained curious, but was also confused as to why she was laughing all of a sudden. When she stopped, she thought about his question and tried to find the right words, before sighing and lowering her head a bit.

"I...want to earn her trust, Erol, and to hear both sides of this crazy situation," she slowly began to explain. "She...she may be an enemy of the city, but I want to earn her trust so she has someone to watch her back when no one else will." She paused a moment, recollecting her thoughts. "I want her to trust me as much as she trusts her friends back in the Wasteland, back in Spargus." Her brows furrowed together. "As of now, people see her as a menace to society and should be put to death for her crimes in the past." She looked at Erol again, who cringed at the thought of putting Ciara down like a sick dog. "I don't want that to happen, and neither do you, because we both know she isn't that bad a person at heart. I can see that fact in your eyes." Amber eyes shifted as he looked away from her violet ones. "She needs people she can trust when the rest of the world is against her." She looked away from him and down to the floor. "I don't know about you, but I want to help her out, since she is in desperate need of friends right now. I'm not gonna let her be alone during her time here. It's just...it's just not right for me to do that, anyway."

Erol slowly looked back at Casey, staring at her sullen looking form as if he were watching a dramatic play with a meaning that was hard to understand. Despite that, though, he knew what she was trying to say and he agreed with her, completely and fully. Although she was a fugitive of the city, he did not want Ciara to be alone, especially when she had to deal with both the Baron messing with her head and Rachel causing her pain just by the sight of her. As a previous friend of Ciara's, he did not want her to be by herself any longer than she had to be. Unfortunately, other than himself (even though she would push him away without thinking on it), the only one who was brave enough to even try to make Ciara's acquaintance was Casey. She did not fear the Baron's tyrannical rule nor did she care about what he thought about her speaking to the fugitive as if she were a friend. Casey did what she thought her heart wanted her to do, and right now, it was telling her to help Ciara by any means necessary.

He looked away from the therapist and out the window. He wanted to do just that, but with the situation as it was, there was no way he could ever speak to her without hearing her scold at him about the past. There was a good chance she would do that, but at least she would know he was around to help her. He sighed. Fat chance she would want it, though, but at least it was better than nothing.

"You're...thinking about confronting her yourself, huh?" Casey inquired, breaking his chain of thought.

He blinked and looked at her, noticing the fact that she approached him while he was deep in thought. When a brief second went by, he sighed again.

"I...I want to make amends with her," he responded. "I don't want her to hate me anymore, as odd as it sounds coming from someone like me."

A smile graced the therapist's lips at his words as she placed a hand on his shoulder in a friendly manner.

"I understand," she stated. Suddenly, her face lit up, and her smile grew a bit. "But you know," She smirked as he looked at her, "there is time. She's going to be awake for awhile longer. She said so herself." He stared at her oddly as she put on a devilish grin. For a moment, he was unnerved by the expression, until she put on a serious look and glared at him. "Will you just go down there and talk to her already before she goes to sleep?" Erol shook his head, smirked and walked past her and out of his room. She smiled as she watched him leave, almost like a mother watching her son go to school for the first time. "Finally, we're getting somewhere," she muttered to herself before following him out silently, walking at her own pace.

**_Ciara's POV_**

I silently sat on the cold bed of my cell, thinking about the recent events of today and trying to make some sense of it all. My arms rested against my legs as I stared intently at the metal ground below me, glaring at it as if it were staring right back at me. In reality, I was thinking about the woman who actually convinced me to talk, even if I got something out of it in return.

As I looked back on the conversation I had with her, she had something brewing in her mind, possibly sometime before she came to me. It was hard to tell what it was though; safe or dangerous. It could have been something safe, since I had at least one person in the Precursor forsaken palace who hated the Baron – and Rachel, I assumed – just as much as I did. That meant I could trust her, but trust was something that I seldom gave away to just anyone. Which brings me to the bad part. I saw it as dangerous because she wanted to find out about a past I no longer wished to remember. She was willing to do anything to get it out of me, and she gave no real reason as to why other than "making sense" of some situation I knew nothing about. Seeing as how I was forced to live with the KG once more, it was going to be a bit of a problem.

For starters, I had no clue what the Baron was going to do with me now that I was back from a six-year absence, on the run from the law while keeping tabs on the city for Damas. There was a huge possibility the Baron would just execute me in front of the public eye simply for his sick pleasure, but as Erol said when we were making our way to the Palace, he - Praxis - seemed too interested in my skills to just kill me off without thinking it through. When I saw Praxis again, I had this feeling in the pit of my stomach that, at some point in the near future, he would offer me my job once again. He knew just what I was capable of, since he implanted that forsaken creature into my body, and destroying his "weapon" would possibly be a disadvantage for him. Sadly, for him, there was no way I would rejoin his pathetic excuse of an army. Since my loyalty lied with Damas, rejoining the ranks of the Krimzon Guard would sound like I were betraying my own leader. Betrayal, I once told him, was a non-existent option in my mind.

A sigh escaped my lips as I continued to think on whether or not Praxis would want me back, and it started to tick me off.

"No way in Hell would I rejoin the KG, Praxis…" I spoke aloud, clenching my fists tightly in anger. "No way in Hell!"

As I said those last words, my right hand slammed against the cold bed I was forced to sleep on. The sound echoed throughout the room for a moment, but it was a sound I ignored altogether. After a moment, I felt something warm forming in my hand, the one that collided with the bed. Looking down at it, I noticed small trickles of light breaking through my enclosed hand. Curiously, I slowly opened it, only to find the familiar necklace wrapped around my hand falling into the palm. This time, however, it was different from what I had seen. The half Seal of Mar dangled in the middle as it always did when I looked at it, but it appeared to be shining dimly and blinking every few seconds. My eyes narrowed in confusion and curiosity as I raised it closer to my face to observe it, trying to figure out what it was doing. Never had I seen the necklace glow the way it did, especially when I first got it many years ago. It was supposed to be a regular necklace with the familiar half Seal of Mar attached to it. The whole glowing thing seemed to be a secret bonus. Did it mean something? If so, what could it be?

After staring at it for another moment, the sound of the cell door opening caught my attention. I quickly looked up toward it, clenching my right hand to hide the glowing necklace from view. i_Who was there now_/i, I wondered. It could not have been Casey, as she was not supposed to come around again until tomorrow. Was it the Baron, coming to convince me into joining the KG as I dreaded? I glared at the slowly opening door. Was it Rachel, coming to see and torture me by playing innocent and childish just as she had done when we reunited? My questions were answered as the cell door fully opened, revealing a familiar, yet equally unwanted figure to me.

Within seconds, I looked back at the ground below before harshly asking, "What do you want, Erol?"

The Commander simply stared at me for a long moment, as if knowing my reaction before I even thought of it, before sighing.

"I...came to see how you were doing," he responded. He almost sounded...awkward. "I wanted to make sure you were alright after the rough day you had."

"I'm fine," I responded quickly, refusing to look up at him. "Now go away."

Instead of complying with me, he chose to go against me and moved over to where I sat. Instantly, I shrank away from him; it looked as though touching him would burn me.

"I'm not going to listen to you, you know," he said plainly, sitting down next to me. I glanced at him from the corner of my eye, but did not make contact with his amber orbs. "I only just arrived."

"But your presence is unwanted here," I remarked in an annoyed tone, turning my head away from him.

He sat there for a long moment, staring at the back of my head, before sighing again.

"I...heard Casey came down here and talked to you," he stated, changing the subject to something else. "She said you made some sort of deal with her."

"I did," I responded. "We...i_promised_/i...to tell each other everything the other wanted to know on a rotating schedule. I would tell her something one day, and the next day she would tell me something. It would just keep switching between us every other day."

"How long do you think that will last?" He inquired, genuninely curious about the plan between Casey and I.

I shrugged before looking down at the ground, folding my hands together to distract me.

"Probably until Damas and his army comes to rescue me," I responded as I started twiddling my thumbs. Erol chuckled a bit, earning a light glare from my azure eyes. "What's so funny, i_Commander_/i?" I asked, mocking his title as if it meant nothing to me.

"Don't get your hopes up about that army, Ciara." He told me, straightening in his seat but keeping his hands on his lap. "I doubt the Baron would ever allow a full scale invasion from Spargus to break into his city. It would almost be as bad as the Metal Heads breaking in again."

I rolled my eyes at his comment.

"You think I care about what the Baron thinks anymore?" I asked with a disgusted tone. "The Baron means absolutely nothing to me. Not after what he did." My head lowered a bit as I looked further into the past, before the events that nearly tore me apart mentally. "Ever since he threw Damas out of power and became Haven's new dictator, there has been nothing but trouble for this city. Damas was, and still is, a great ruler and leader." I glanced forward a bit. "This place would be so much better if only the Baron wasn't so eager to get drunk off power." My eyes closed. "If only Praxis didn't throw Damas into the Wasteland to fend for himself, while that bastard took over and sent this city to Hell. I'm still waiting for that day to come, the day that Praxis is finally thrown out of power." I smiled and opened my eyes, staring at the floor once again. "I'm hoping that will be soon."

"What makes you say that?" Erol inquired, leaning forward a bit as if he was trying to be comfortable. Clearly, he listened intently to what I was saying. Although I hated him and saw him as my mortal enemy, it felt good to talk to someone other than myself. If only it were Akira, and not someone I did not really wish to see.

Inhaling, I told him blankly, yet with confidence, "I plan to eliminate the Baron one day." I sensed him smirk at my words, but paid no mind to him. "It's been my goal since Damas was thrown out of power and since the city was fed to the Metal Heads, especially after what he put in me. All the Baron has done for this city - no, for everyone - was bring nothing but trouble, and these people need a savior."

"And you want that to be you," he stated. It was not a question, but a statement, one that answered with a nod.

"Of course," I replied smoothly, crossing my arms over my chest. "I'm hoping it will be enough to clear my name for most of the people in this city, but it's a long shot. I'll have to do more than just take out their dictator in order to fully clear my name."

He chuckled before saying, "You'll have a lot to do in order for that day to come."

I would have smiled at the comment, smiled just like I used to back in Spargus with Akira and the others, but I held it back. Instead, I chose to look over at him. He was staring at a wall in front of him with a small smile, as if he thought the comment was a little humorous. It had been a long time since I had seen a smile like that appear on his face, so genuine and real. Many years had gone by since I had actually seen it with my own two eyes, but I did not make a big deal out of it. Although it was unusual for anyone else to see Erol smile non-sadistically, it felt familiar to me. Deep down, it kind of felt...good.

At that thought, I sighed and looked forward, staring outside of my cell and at all the electronics. I could sense the machine that caused all the trouble dwelling there as well, but I pushed those memories away as I suddenly asked, "Why are you really here?" Erol looked at me, surprised by my forwardness of the question. "There's another reason why you're here, and I want to know."

He sat there silently, staring at me, before looking away.

"I...came to make amends," he replied honestly.

I blinked a few times before glaring into space.

"I should have guessed," I spoke before getting up and walking out of the cell.

"Hey, where are you going?" He questioned, following me out quickly.

"Nowhere," I answered. "I'm just walking out of my cell for a while." I stopped and turned around to look him dead in the eye. "Now don't change the subject at hand. Why would you want to make amends?"

He stopped in front of me, returning the gaze without even bothering to look away.

"Because," he started, hesitating for a moment before continuing, "because I don't want us to be enemies anymore."

My eyes narrowed.

"You should have thought of that before you did the things you did back then," I told him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Maybe we wouldn't be enemies now."

"But you don't understand," he tried to explain. "What you saw was a mistake-"

"Oh, _of course_ it was!" I snapped sarcastically, moving closer to him. "_Of course_, it was mistake! It was mistake because _you_ didn't want me to know you were off whoring around with some bitch! Not only that," I clenched my fists, "but you forgot about what we had!"

"No, I didn't-"

"Yes, you did, Erol!" I cut him off. "You forgot everything! And if you claim you didn't, that's a complete lie!"

"Please, will you just listen to me, Ciara?" He took a hold of my shoulders as if trying to grab my attention. "I didn't forget any of it. I swear."

A glare formed in my eyes, but I could also feel tears slowly but surely forming.

"Really? So 'What had happened in the past means nothing to me now' means you didn't forget about us?" At that point, Erol looked shocked, as if realizing what he had said in the past. Clearly, he did not think anything of it when brought up before, but when I brought it up, it meant something completely different. I actually had meaning to it; he finally realized how much it hurt to hear him say that. "That's what I thought! You saw us as nothing, as if I never existed for years of your life! All because of that damn tramp Rachel!"

He soon came back to reality at the Lieutenant's name.

"Rachel had nothing to do with what happened between us," he retorted, a hint of anger and...regret...filling his eyes.

I pulled myself out of his grip and took a step back.

"Yes, she has! Are you kidding me?! She has _everything_ to do with what happened!" I exclaimed, enraged by his words. "She's the reason why we fell apart the moment we joined the KG! She's the reason I forced myself to run away from everything I once knew, everything I lived up to! She's the reason our lives were ruined!"

"You thought our lives were ruined, but they weren't!" I shook my head and turned away from him, running a hand through my green bangs. "Things just...didn't work out the way we thought it would!"

"You mean the way _you_ thought it would!" I corrected him, turning my head to look at him again.

"You're not listening to anything I'm trying to tell you, Ciara!" He snapped, his face apologetic.

My eyes narrowed with pain and anger.

"Why would I ever listen to the man who broke our promises and betrayed me?"

"But I-"

"Don't stand there and say you didn't, Erol, because you did! And it's Rachel's fault!" I could feel my hands shaking, yet I did not have the urge to cut him down. Instead, I felt like breaking down. "She forced you to forget the promises you made and even make you go as far as to break them! She forced you to betray what we had all because she wanted to be a damn harlot and get in the way of everything!" I paused, trying to hold back all the emotions while keeping the enraged aura around me. "Everything would have been great and dandy if you didn't listen to her and what she said!" My eyes narrowed more as I kept my tears from falling. "If you would have listened to me, things would have been so different between us. We wouldn't be enemies anymore if she didn't fill your mind with her disgusting little lies. Our lives would have been different, and not only that…" I looked him dead in the eyes for just a few seconds before looking at the ground, "we would have kept our promises…just like I have since the day we made them…"

Erol was silent at that point, possibly surprised that I kept the promises he carelessly threw away. Unlike him, I held onto the broken pieces, hoping that maybe things would be different. Even after being cut several times, I still found it hard to let them go.

"You…you've still kept the promises…?" He asked, his voice uncharacteristically low.

I nodded, but refused to look at him.

"Yeah, I have. Even to this day, despite the fact they're broken," I responded painfully, holding back the tears begging to come free. "I never forgot them, Erol, unlike you. I've still kept them safe and sound in my mind, and I still hold them dear." I felt myself shrink a bit as I continued to hold back tears. "But now…I wonder if it's even worth keeping anymore."

"Ciara…" He muttered. This time, I chose to look into his amber eyes. I felt my eyes becoming glossy, but refused to allow the tears to fall.

"If you wanted to make amends with me, you're too late," I told him. "Your last chance...was six years ago…"

With that, I slowly walked past him and toward my cell, my head lowering toward the ground once again in order to avoid looking at him. He said nothing as I slowly walked past him, and I did not know what kind of expression he had on. On the inside, I felt broken down once again. It felt like the shards from all the memories cut through my old wounds, and looking back on the arguement was just salt falling all over those wounds again. I could feel my tears begging and screaming to come out, yet I pushed them away just as I always did. It was what I did back in Spargus, and I was not going to break that tradition now. Instead, I just wanted to go back to my cell, lie down, and curl up into a ball and speak to no one else. I wanted to patch up the wounds and just forget that the conversation we just had never happened. Unfortunately, the Commander was not thinking in the same way.

Instead of being offered the sanctuary that was my cell, I was suddenly stopped by Erol's hand firmly but gently taking a hold of my wrist. My body instantly froze in its place as his hand held my wrist, restricting me from returning to my cell. There was just no end to the pain, was there?

My eyes narrowed as I glared at the ground. "What...do you want…now?" I whined, my voice lower than usual and cracking ever so slightly.

He did not respond to my question as I listened to him turn around to face me, while my back simply stared right back at him. Silence continued to envelope us for just a moment before I heard him move closer to me, close enough to allow my back to touch his chest. Instantly, I tensed up almost uncomfortably, unsure of what he was doing. It was not until another painstaking moment passed by that his free arm wrapped around my waist and held me there, preventing me from getting away from him. My head shot up to look forward, eyes widened with surprise. He removed his other hand from my wrist and wrapped it around my chest, taking a hold of my upper arms as well. I stood there, holding my breath in anxiety at his actions, but said nothing to reject it. Deep down, and even after a few more moments of silence, I suddenly felt a bit more relaxed. Tense, of course, but at the same time at ease despite the argument from before.

"Ciara," he muttered, sending a shiver down my spine. "I didn't forget the promises we made back then. I _swear_ I'm telling you the truth." My eyes narrowed once again, but said nothing. "I've still kept them myself. I would never do anything that would hurt what we had."

"Yeah…right…" I muttered, chuckling very faintly. "Why should I believe you? After what you said to me nine years ago...and what I saw six years ago, I should never forgive or believe you." My eyes narrowed. "Give me one good reason I should believe anything you're telling me right now."

He remained silent for a moment, placing his forehead against my shoulder, forcing me to turn my head away from him. I glared in a random direction for a long moment, trying to avoid any more contact with him than what was already present. It brought back a memory of when he used to do that when I was upset. I remembered him wrapping his arms around me, and when I would not comply, he would just put his head on my shoulder and think of what to do next. Usually, it would not take very long, and this moment was no exception.

When another second passed by, I felt him remove his head from my shoulder and slowly begin to turn me around, forcing me to face him completely. I refused to look him in the eye, deciding to stare at our feet with a light glare. I probably looked like an annoyed child, yet I appeared that way for good reason. I did not want to be a part of whatever it was that he was planning. However, he did not seem to think in the same way. Just like before, instead of telling me to look at him, he forced me to do so by placing both of his hands on my cheeks and slowly moving my head to look up into his amber eyes. They held something in them, something I had never seen before until this moment. Instantly, and without any real conscious thought, I began studying them, trying to figure out what it was his eyes were saying, but in the end found nothing.

In any other person, a civilian for example, I would have been able to tell what exactly that person was feeling, whether they were smiling or quaking with fear. Even some of my friends were easy to read, and it was rare to find someone I found hard to read. Unfortunately, one of the few rare occasions happened to be standing right in front of me. The person I was unable to read as clearly as any other person I knew was the infamous Commander himself. However, those rare occasions were usually broken down, but that was only because I could easily tell when something was wrong. In a situation like this, where his expressions were unreadable, it was difficult for me to tell. That, as far as I knew, could either be dangerous...or interesting.

"If I were lying to you, Ciara," he finally spoke as his face began moving closer to mine. "Then I wouldn't have thought about doing this...again…"

My eyes widened as I realized what he was trying to do, but I could not move from my spot. Instead, I moved by head back in what I believe was an attempt at rejection. However, in the back of my mind, it was seen as a delay.

"You may have done it before," I started, trying to put up a defensive front, "but that doesn't mean you'll get another one from me again. Not like back then."

He smirked.

"You were so naïve back then," he teased. "Even when you were trying to defend yourself, you turned out to be that gullible little girl I knew too well.

My eyes narrowed into a glare as I frowned, not liking the fact he was teasing me about my past naivety.

"S-shut your mouth," I hissed, my cheeks suddenly getting warmer at the memories. "I was seventeen at the time, so I was not gullible...or in your case naïve."

"Of course you weren't," he muttered, keeping his face a few inches from mine. His eyes never left mine, yet they were partially closed; little did I realize I was following suit. "If you don't mind, I think you're naivety is coming into play, so I might as well take advantage of it while I have time."

I had the urge to slap him at that point, yet I was unable to as I found myself moving closer to him as well. However, before anything could happen, the sound of the metal prison door opening sounded throughout the room. Within seconds, we both looked in the same direction, Erol releasing me just as I took several steps away from him, keeping a safe distance from the Commander just to be safe. For a long moment, my face felt hot and my heart beat rapidly against my chest. In some aspects, I started to feel flustered and embarrassed that I almost aloud that to happen. To keep from appearing as such, I took in several silent, deep breaths as the mysterious person entered the room, the sound of their boots colliding against the floor as they walked toward us. I continued to watch for another moment, before glaring a bit as I realized who it was.

"There you are, Erol!" Rachel exclaimed, making her way over to the Commander with an innocent smile on her face. Following behind her was Casey, who appeared to be wearing a bit of an uncomfortable expression as she watched Rachel wrap her arms around Erol in what appeared to be a warm embrace. "I've been looking everywhere for you. What are you doing down here?"

He slowly returned the hug before stealing a glance toward me. My face turned blank, but hardened a bit as I watched Rachel as she let him go, keeping her arms around his neck.

"Just…checking up on Ciara," he lied, looking back at Rachel. "Just to be sure she was okay."

She nodded before looking at me, her face turning confused.

"Speaking of which," she started, pointing toward me briefly. "Ciara, what are you doing out of your cell?"

Instead of lying, I chose to be honest for once and replied harshly, "I decided to take a bit of…'fresh air' instead of staying cooped up in my cell all day." I paused a moment. "Gotta problem with that?"

She seemed to smile at me, as if she ignored the tone I had given her.

"Nope, not at all," she answered in her innocent tone. "By the way, I wanted to tell you I forgive you for what happened today."

_What's to forgive_, I asked myself as I looked away from her. _I almost killed you three times, and yet you still forgive me?_ I paused as Rachel returned her attention to Erol. _Must be a ruse…_

"C'mon, babe," she said, making me cringe at her ridiculous nickname for Erol. "We've got stuff to do for the Baron. You know, _paperwork_ and what not."

After a brief shifting of the eyes, something Rachel missed as she turned away, the Commander responded with a small, "Alright." before following her out. The Lieutenant's long purple hair remained in its high ponytail and swayed in her step, as if it had a mind of its own. I glared at the back of her head until she and Erol disappeared from my sight. Once I knew she was out of earshot, I sighed frustratedly.

"I can't stand that woman…" I muttered.

"You can say that…" I glanced at Casey as she also stared in their direction. She looked back at me and shrugged. "But...what can you do about them, especially Rachel?" With a small smile, she turned on her heel and made her way into the same direction as the two. I stood there for a long moment, watching her walk away, before something strange came over me.

"Casey!" I called her, grabbing her attention instantly. She turned around to look at me, waiting to see what I had to say. I stood there for another moment as if I were hesitating about what I wanted to say, but eventually I simply came out with it. "Could we…change our deal...a bit…?" I asked hesitantly. Her interest was caught by my words as she fully turned around to face me.

"Change it as in…?" She inquired.

Frowning a little out of what I thought was defeat, I took in a deep breath and asked, "Change as it as in...make it a bit earlier than previously planned?"

I did not see the smirk on her face as I spoke those words, but I did notice the genunine smile as she said, "Of course, it's your decision." She paused and crossed her arms over her chest. "So, how early do you want it?"

I stood there for a long moment, contemplating my response and decision before outwardly voicing it. She waited patiently for me to speak, the look on her face giving no signs of impatience or the desire for me to hurry up. For that, I respected her just a little bit more. After another moment or two of silence, I sighed and stared at the ground in shame before answering her with only two words:

"Right now…?"


	7. Akira

**_General POV_**

The sound of tiny pattering feet against cold sandy dirt and stone rushed past the humans meandering about the city, while the young ottsel Akira ran on all fours toward Damas's palace, passing them with ease and keeping up her frantic rush. Her face was filled with fear and worry over the fact that she had just abandoned her comrade the way she did, and it felt like every minute that past was just a waste of time on her part.

She had arrived back in Spargus just a few minutes ago, yet it felt like an eternity had gone by when she left the city. With every passing minute that passed by, the young ottsel feared the worst would come to Ciara, motivating her to move faster toward the throne room of the King. Her mind constantly worried about what was happening to dear comrade, wondering if she would be alright without Akira at her side and ready to fight. She knew that Ciara was nowhere near weak, but after leaving her in a state that made her out to be as such, it was difficult not to think negatively about the situation. The ottsel prayed to the Precursors that those Krimzon Guards did not do anything that would cause Ciara any harm. It was bad enough she had that thing living inside of her, but to be surrounded by those guards, who were more than capable of angering her at any point, and be located in a place where she did not feel comfortable was something that could become a repeat of the past.

Akira shuttered at the thought, recalling the dreadful day her best friend re-entered the city; her were closed tattered and torn, her hair partially charred from fire and let out of its usual ponytail, and her arms caked in what the ottsel recognized as blood. It was a look she never wanted to see again, but at the rate she was going it was not too long before she did. Ciara may have been strong enough to hold her own, especially against the guards, but mentally there was no telling how long it would take for her to break. She would be able to overpower them for a good amount of time, able to withstand whatever they had to throw at her and remain strong-willed; how long it would be, however, until she weakens or breaks down mental wise was different story entirely. After what the ottsel had seen in the past, she hoped that mental breakdown would not occur again.

Akira soon found the front door that lead into the palace, immediately picking up her pace as she ran toward it maneuvering through the other. As she approached the large door, it slowly began to open up, revealing an elevator like platform leading up to the throne room, where she would find the King of Spargus sitting on his throne. With a small nod and a quickening pace, she entered the palace and jumped onto the platform just as the doors closed behind her. As she stood up straight on the wooden platform, it slowly roared to life and slowly began making its way up toward her leader's throne room.

While she stood there, waiting for the platform to come to a halt, her mind slowly wandered back to her comrade Ciara, but focused on the Commander of the Krimzon Guard and the Baron's right hand man, Erol, the most. _What exactly happened_, she wondered, _that caused Ciara so much pain?_ Who was the "dead weight whore" she was speaking about to Erol? Many other questions ran through the young ottsel's mind when it came to what had happened in Haven. Despite only having met the Commander once and saw Ciara converse with him, Akira could tell the two had a past, one that was long and rather painful judging by how Ciara went silent after being asked what had happened. The stories that Ciara told about the Commander also backed up that assumption. Although she did not know much about Ciara and Erol's past as a whole, she had a feeling something between them had happened in order for them to despise one other. Well, to make _Ciara_ despise Erol, since the Commander did not appear to have anything against the fugitive as far as she knew.

The ottsel's head lowered a bit and her lip pursed. If that was true, then what exactly happened six years ago that had caused the immense hatred Ciara felt toward the Commander? Were they a "couple" at one point in time, before Akira and Ciara met, but fell apart due to the "deadweight whore" getting in the way of the relationship?

Akira shook her head and placed a hand on her hip. _That can't be true_, she thought, placing her other hand on her cheek. Knowing Ciara, she was much too busy working for and with Damas more than worrying about such petty things like love and relationships. She said so herself. Ciara believed stuff like that would only get in the way of work and tasks at hand. Not only that, but it ruin people's lives, what with their lies and fake smiles. Every relationship, according to Ciara, was modified and fake, and she wanted to avoid it at all costs. However, despite being a firm believer in that statement, there was one point when Akira and Ciara had a talk about Erol. Although Ciara strongly disliked the Commander with every fiber of her being, as Akira had figured out, the Wastelander did not seem to mind speaking about Erol and her opinions about him.

"One thing's for sure," Ciara stated while leaning against the hood of her car and staring at the twilit sky one day, "Erol is pretty self-centered and arrogant."

"I'm not surprised," Akira responded, sitting next to her while holding onto her "Baby" and cleaning it. "A guy with that much power would be crazy if he didn't at least feel a bit drunk off power."

"Like the Baron?" Ciara smirked, laughing a little bit at her comment.

Akira shrugged her furry shoulders and said, "Almost, but not quite." She looked up at Ciara. "Commanders only have a limited amount of power."

"And besides..." The smirk on Ciara's face disappeared as she looked forward, staring into the sands of the Wasteland, her home, "Erol is nothing like the Baron, always seeking out power and the chance to rule Haven City with an iron fist." Azure eyes shifted. "I've known him too well and too long for him to act like that bastard of a leader…"

Akira looked up at her with a confused look on her face, wondering what she meant, and asked, "What do you mean?"

"Although Erol is self-centered, arrogant, sadistic, and an all-around jackass to everyone," Her head lowered a bit, "he's...he's nothing like the Baron." Her eyes soon closed as well, as if looking back on what the Commander of the Krimzon Guard was like. "Not an atom in his body is anything like Praxis. Not by a long shot."

"How do you know that?" Akira inqured.

Ciara smirked and opened her eyes again before saying, "I...used to be good friends with him…"

Akira gasped at her words, surprised to hear such a thing come out of her mouth.

"Seriously?! You? Friends with Erol?" Ciara nodded once as she fell back onto the hood of the car. "You've gotta be kidding me!"

Ciara laughed at the ottsel's surprise.

"That's right," she stated with a smile. Then, she looked up at the sky. "We knew everything about one another, even the little things like pet peeves. So I know from experience that he's nothing like Praxis nor will he ever be like him."

"I thought you were just kidding about that," Akira pointed out, sitting up and placing her paws on her furry knees. "What was he like back then?"

Ciara shrugged absently and replied, "Certainly not like today." She giggled a bit. "Let's just say age does a number on people."

Akira smiled, but it soon disappeared as she remembered something, something...important.

"Wait," she started, "you said you _used_ to be friends with him, right?" The smile on Ciara's face disappeared instantly the second Akira asked that question, but she nodded nonetheless. "If that's the case," Akira went on, "what...exactly happened between the both of you?"

At that point, Ciara looked at the ground, remaining silent before looking back at her.

"Let's just say…it was as if I had disappeared from his life altogether…"

That was not the first time the two ever spoke about the Commander the way they did that day, but that specific day was when Akira found out anything involving Ciara's past for the first time, bringing them that much closer as friends. Surprisingly, it had involved Erol, of all people the ottsel could think of in the universe. However, how long the two went back was a mystery. It could have been since they were children or just a few months ago. Nevertheless, whether they had known each other for years or months, _something_ had happened between them that had caused her to come here, to the Wasteland and to Spargus, in the first place. It was all a mystery to the ottsel, of course, but she chose against prying the answers she wanted out of her human comrade to avoid becoming nosy. Although the two were very close friends in the time Ciara had been in Spargus, Akira understood when she pushed it over the edge, when she crossed the line. Not only that, but after find ing out about Ciara and her days working with the Krimzon Guard, Akira did not want to know what would happen if she questioned her further about the past she had with Erol. She only chose moments when they were alone and the subject was eased into during any normal conversation that she would try and get something, anything, out of her without pushing it. As much as she wanted to figure out her friend's past, she did not want Ciara to torture herself just thinking about it all in one day. It would be too much for her, and Akira was not the type to do things like that.

The sudden stop of the elevator broke her chain of thought just as it reached the top. Akira blinked a few times, remembering what she was there for in the first place, before quickly turning around and, on all fours, sprinted toward her leader. Damas and Sig, who was also there, noticed her arrive and greeted her with welcoming smiles on their faces.

"Well hey there, little chili pepper," said Sig as she stopped in front of him and stood up. "Looks like you two came back faster than the last time. Must be a new record."

"We've...we've got a huge problem," Akira immediately blurted out, looking up at the two of them with worried expression. "Like..._massive_ problem that needs to be dealt with as soon as possible..."

Immediately when she said that, the two became serious.

"What happened," Damas spoke, getting up from his seat before looking past the ottsel, as if he were searching for something, "and where's Ciara?"

Akira looked away, ears falling back, before responding, "That _is_ the problem, sir. She was captured by the Krimzon Guard!"

He looked back down at her, shocked by the news.

"What?" He walked down from the throne toward her. "How can that be?"

She took in a deep breath, trying to calm her nerves.

"We...we were going to start our mission like you wanted, sir," she started to explain, "but there was this Krimzon Guard who was right in front of the cruiser. He tried to capture us, but Ciara shot him. Then, the rest of the guards found out about it and hunted her down. We began a-a high speed chase all around the city. After a while," She suddenly began rambling in a state of panic and worry, "the zoomer was destroyed and-and we got cornered by the guards, but we were able to escape. But then, Ciara was shot with some kind of drug. She told me to leave her behind despite my protests. I didn't want to, but she…she..." She trailed off, ears falling back in shame. "I-I'm sorry, Damas… I didn't wanna leave her there, but she told me to."

"Do not blame yourself," he assured her, dropping to one knee in order to drop to her level, patting her head lightly. "Did she say anything before you returned to Spargus?"

Akira thought for a moment, before nodding once.

"Yeah, but it wasn't much," she told him. "She said she knew you and that you would find a way to bring her back home safely, but you wouldn't be able to do that unless I came back here and told you."

At that moment, Damas smirked as he returned to his feet and said, "And she was right about that." He, then, stood up and turned his attention to Sig. "Sig, gather up a small army and prepare for a search and rescue. We're heading to the city to get her back."

Both Sig and Akira stared at him, surprised by the order.

"An invasion?" Sig questioned. "But Damas, that would be asking for a war against the city."

"We can't risk leaving Ciara there any longer, and invading the city is the only option we have at getting her back ourselves." Damas looked at Akira, who had climbed onto his shoulder. "Which is why we require a long enough diversion to keep Praxis away. We'll need to attack something that will grab his attention first before we invade the city, that way we can avoid any damages to them and ourselves." He looked at Sig and smirked. "And I want you to lead Phase One of the attack."

"We could attack the Dig!" Akira chimed in. "That's where the Baron is currently looking for Mar's Tomb last time Ciara and I checked last month! I'm sure he wouldn't want anything to disrupt his progress to find it, even a surprise attack from us Wastelanders."

Damas nodded in the ottsel's direction before going on, "Then that is where the diversion will take place!" He looked back at Sig. "I'll need you to gather a party and prepare for a surprise attack within the next few weeks. Head out to the Dig and destroy as much as you can so the Baron will be distracted long enough for us to invade the city." He started walking back to the throne. "I'll need to gather up an army of my own during that time period, and will send a signal three days before the invasion so you can get ready to head over."

Sig straightened in his place and nodded before uttering a "Yes, sir!" before making his way toward the elevator. Damas and Akira both watched him leave the throne room in silence. Clearly, the two were waiting for him to leave before saying anything to the other. Sig entered the elevator and began his descent to the lower level, not noticing Damas and Akira watching him from afar. Once he had disappeared from view, Damas turned his attention to Akira once again, whose expression was still a bit worried.

"Akira," he spoke, grabbing the attention of the female ottsel. "Back in Haven, before Ciara was taken, did the both of you encounter Erol at any point?"

Akira's ears rose at his question instantly, surprised he would ask a question about the Commander of the Krimzon Guard out of the blue. He had never asked about Erol before, especially not unexpectedly the way he did. However, it was not the type to be wondering about Damas's sudden change in subject.

"Y-yes," she responded with a small nod. "We did, in fact, run into him. She seemed really upset at him; upset enough to let..._It_ come out again had I not said something." She shuddered at the memory, her ears falling back at the same time. "But...she was able to control herself very well. 'It' wasn't able to come out completely."

He closed his eyes at that, but it did not seem as though it was out of relief.

"That's good," he stated, "but if she's going to be around Erol for a while, how long do you suppose she'll last?"

Akira stared at her leader for a long moment, before looking at the ground. When another second past, she shrugged her shoulders and said, "I'm not sure. I guess it would depend on how much they really dislike one another." Her lips pursed. "Well, how much _she_ hates _him_."

"She doesn't exactly hate him, Akira." Damas point, making the ottsel look at him once again.

"What...do you mean by that, sir?" She questioned. "I thought she hated him for something that he did."

He remained silent for a moment before looking at the ground.

"That may be, but that doesn't mean she hates him." When he looked at Akira, she had on a confused look. "I've seen Erol and Ciara back before I was thrown out of power by Praxis." He sat down on his throne. "At the time, they were...quite close, almost as close as Ciara and I are now. She and I are like family, but those two were much different." He looked up a bit as Akira jumped onto the armrest, as if a father was looking back on the memories of his daughter. "Back then, Ciara used to smile a lot more often when she was with him, and they were actually genuine. Unfortunately, that changed after I was banished. She was outraged over it, but that is a story for another day." His head lowered a bit. "I'm not sure what happened after I came to the Wasteland and helped create this city, but several years later, she came to Spargus. She was unconscious, dehydrated and look as if she was left to die like I was." He paused for thought. "She was surprised to see me when she woke up in the throne room, and I asked her what she was doing here…"

He seemed to trail off as he stared at the ground. Akira stared at him for a moment, waiting for him to continue, before slowly speaking, "Damas, what did she say?"

He remained quiet for another few seconds before looking at her and asking, "Did she ever tell you...how _It_ came into the picture?"

Akira stared at him for another moment, unsure as to why he was suddenly changing the subject again, before shaking her head. Maybe he was trying to connect something.

"No, she didn't," she replied. "Why do you ask?"

He looked forward and said sullenly, "Then it seems she didn't tell you it was the Baron's fault that the creature living within her exists."

Akira gasped at his words, horrified by his words.

"The...the Baron gave it to her," she muttered, earning a small nod from Damas. "But…but why? How? H-how could do such a thing to her?"

"It was because he forced her into the Dark Warrior Program, as he spoke of it to me months before stealing the throne," he explained to her.

Akira sat down on the edge, needing a seat from her mind racing all of a sudden.

"The...the Dark Warrior Program," she mumbled, recalling the name. "I've...heard about that from somewhere, but I don't know exactly what it's all about."

"It was, and probably still is, a program the Baron created to try and make a weapon against the Metal Heads," Damas explained. "He took people off the streets, brought them to the palace, and experimented on ways to infect them and use Dark Eco."

Akira's eyes widened with horror as she looked back at him.

"T-that could kill them!" She exclaimed. "The Baron should know that Dark Eco kills people! What was he thinking?"

"He was thinking he could create something to destroy the Metal Heads," he said. He, then, leaned back in his seat. "But every one of them failed because they showed no change…until later, when they were killed from the inside out by how much Dark Eco was in their systems."

"They…they were _killed_…?" She asked, earning another nod from Damas. She looked away from him, stricken with terror that the Baron would do such a thing to innocent people, before realization struck her. She slowly looked back at Damas. "Wait, if what you said is true," She turned to face him in her spot, "then how is Ciara still alive? Shouldn't she have died in there?"

He nodded.

"She would have if the program hadn't been a success on her." Her eyes widened even further, but did not say anything as he went on. "The program was dubbed a success at first, but that changed in a matter of seconds. From what she remembers, she recalls breaking from her restraints, ready to end her life because of the pain, but she didn't. Instead, she decided to take it out on someone else, someone she believed deserved death far more…"

Akira blinked in confusion, before asking, "Who did she go after...instead of killing herself?"

Damas remained silent, as if he was remembering the day Ciara told him everything that had happened after his banishment. After another second, he looked at the ottsel again and said, "Rachel, the Krimzon Guard's Lieutenant." Akira blinked at the name, unfamiliar with the name, as he went on. "At the time that this took place, she wasn't a Lieutenant, but she was a KG officer who was there during Ciara's experimentation." He paused as his eyes narrowed. "When Ciara broke free of her restraints, she spotted Rachel moments before ending her life and went into a fit of rage, allowing…_It_ to assume control of her actions. I assume it was the first time 'It' has ever come out, so controlling it at the time was out of the question.

"She went after Rachel, but according to her one of the doctors got in the way and took the fatal blow and was torn apart. Rachel was able to get out of there before she was harmed, but she left behind other officers and doctors there to die by Ciara's hands." He closed his eyes a moment. "She remembers watching those people be slaughtered single-handedly by the creature that had taken over, and found that Rachel was not among them at all. She spotted her out of the room, but someone stopped her from tearing open the doorway that lead to her."

She stared at him for a long moment, listening intently to what he had to say. When she realized he had stopped a moment, thinking on the past once again, she blinked and tilted her head to the side.

"Who could have stopped her?" She asked.

"Erol," was all he had to say.

Akira's eyes widened again.

"Erol...stopped her?" She earned a nod from the King of Spargus. "B-but how? She was slaughtering everyone and everything without a second thought? How could he have stopped her?"

"I'm not sure, to be honest," Damas replied, placing his arm on the armrest and leaning against it, "and she's not so sure herself. The memory is hazy to her, but she remembers bits and pieces. Apparently, Erol was also there during every one of her experimentations, watching over her. She knew he wanted to help, but couldn't, since the Baron would not allow him or anyone else to do so without being killed. When she broke out of her restraints, he escaped with Rachel, but chose to go back and help Ciara. After that, she told me everything went black."

Akira stared at the floor once more, relaying the information she was given. _Poor Ciara_, she thought. To hear that she was tortured by that bastard of a man Praxis all because he wanted a weapon, only to turn her into what she believed was a monster. In a way, she could not fully blame him (though she did put a lot of it on him). The fact that he used her and innocent people in order to create some weapon with the use of deadly Dark Eco was one thing, but creating something that could destroy the Metal Heads was another. She was, in no way, siding with what he was planning, but she could understand why he chose to do. Still, the fact that he used Ciara hurt the ottsel to no end, hence why she still saw him as a monster. Now she actually understood why Ciara hated the Baron as much as she did. It was not only because he threw Damas out of power, but the lives of all those people, along with her own, were destroyed. She was used like some toy and turned into a creature that could slaughter a whole village if it was given the chance.

Not only did Akira find out about her hatred for the Baron, but she also realized that, maybe, Ciara really did not hate Erol as much as she thought. She realized that it could have been Rachel who was the stem of Ciara's anger. Clearly, she somehow angered Ciara more than the pain the fugitive felt in her body, keeping her from becoming suicidal and taking out her anger and pain on someone else. Whatever pain or anger Rachel inflicted upon Ciara had to be enough to keep her from ending her life on the spot. Fortunately for Ciara, it was a good thing Erol was around to keep her from killing anyone else in the city. Still, that question remained clear: how was he able to do it? Ciara was most likely a homicidal maniac, ready to kill anything that moved in front of her eyes, yet Erol somehow stopped her. How could that be? Did he talk her out of it? No, she would not have heard him due to her anger and rage filling her mind. Did he shoot her? No, she would have reacted immediately and killed him.

Her head started to hurt; nothing was adding up. She was grateful to know Erol had somehow saved her best friend and comrade's life back then, yes, but it was difficult to know what he did in order to calm her down and bring her back to the old Ciara she and Damas knew too well. She had seen Ciara when _It _came out to play, and it was very difficult to coax her out it. _So how was Erol able to do it_, she wondered. After much thought, something else came to mind, a thought that she felt was just as important as everything else she heard.

The young ottsel glanced back at her leader.

"So," she spoke, breaking the silence between them, "she doesn't remember what he did to help her..." It was more of a statement than a question.

Damas shook his head and said, "No, she can't recall anything after killing everyone around her, but she knew he helped her in some way."

Akira leaned forward in her seat. "But...if he helped her back then and they were close friends," She blinked, "how come she claims to not like him?"

He looked at her intently. "It's very confusing to fully understand, even for me. She told me a lot about what happened back then, most of it about Erol. The way she spoke about him, despite her supposed hatred toward him, sounded as if she were a hypocrite of a sort."

"A hypocrite?" She inquired. "What makes you say that?"

"Her words sounded as if…" He paused, trying to find the right words, "something more were between them than what she put off."

Akira thought about it for a moment.

"So your saying," she started, "that there is…or was, something going on between them…something more than…friendship?" Damas nodded. "But if that was the case, why would she speak so ill of him now?"

He thought for a long moment, contemplating on whether or not he should go on. However, he sighed and looked back at the ottsel.

"It's because of what he did nine years ago, one year after her experimentation was complete," he explained, "that caused her to despise him as much as she claims."

Akira blinked and asked, "What did he do to cause her to be the way she was when she arrived nine years ago?"

He stared at her intently before looking forward. His next words struck her to the core, and they ran through her head multiple times: "From what I heard, he had abandoned her when she needed him the most…"

Her eyes widened a bit, but returned to normal as she thought on it.

"But...if he abandoned her, then she should hate him." She stated. "Then she would be right when she says she hates him, right?"

"That would be true," Damas told her, "had she not known of the reason why he did so." When she did not say anything, he looked at her again. "According to her, he abandoned her for the Lieutenant of the Krimzon Guard."

Her eyes widened even more, uttering the name only once in surprise: "Rachel..."


	8. The Very Beginning

**_Ciara's POV_**

_A light fall of rain cascaded from the sky as I silently wandered the streets of Haven City, a small bag slung over my shoulder filled with an assortment of food, water, and some new clothes and shoes I was forced to steal from a store a few nights back. I pulled my black hoodie over my face more with my free hand, trying to keep the water from hitting my face, while the other hand held onto a long cylinder pipe, which I started to carry around about two months ago. It was in case I would have some fighting to do in the future - I may have been young, but I had done my fair share of reading books, and oddly I read a lot more books about martial arts than anything else. Although my face was partially dry, the rest of my clothes were not so lucky. My black t-shirt and jean shorts stuck to my skin and soaked me to the bone, causing a slight shiver to course through me. My sneakers felt as if I had been walking through puddles of water, so I decided to switch them out whenever I found a good spot to hide under and protect myself from the rain for a few short minutes. My shoulder length blond hair was pushed back inside my hood, while some strands of my green bangs stuck to my face. Despite the fact I was wearing a hood, my hair still felt a little damp, but was not soaked like the rest of my clothes._

_My azure colored eyes - I learned about different colors, like azure, from some other books I had read - stared at the ground absently for a long moment, before looking straight ahead, scanning the area around me for a brief moment._

_I had been wandering the streets of the huge city for as long as I could remember. Although it was still morning and raining, the city looked alive and filled with life on every corner. Plants were sprouting and blooming, flowers were scattered here and there, civilians wandered the streets, entering and exiting shops nearby with an assortment of items in each hand. Even though today was not one of the best-looking days I had ever seen, the city still bustled with life. I scanned over my surroundings for another moment before sighing, lowering my head a bit. It was days like this that made me feel even more depressed than before. From time to time, I would spot a small group of people, two adults and about two to three children at most, and recognized them as a happy family spending their day in the city. Their smiles and laughter made me feel left out of what they were doing, wondering what it was they were up to that made them so happy to be around._

_I slowly looked back at the ground as I thought about the family I did not remember, a family I could not remember at all no matter how hard I tried to think of them. It was hard being unable to remember my own family. My mother had died after she gave birth to her second child, a son, when I was around the age of three or four. However, I never got the chance to get to know him or my father, since they mysteriously disappeared and never came back. Feeling alone, I decided to pack as much food and water as I could, packed some of my clothes, before leaving my home behind. I still remembered where it was, but I chose not to return, for fear of remembering the family I never really considered having as a child. I decided to stay on the streets, finding my own clothes to wear and what food to eat. It had been that way for two years straight, and it made me feel more independent to be alone without the consent of my parents telling me what to do and tell me what was right and wrong. Even though I missed them greatly to no end, it has helped me to learn what life was really like outside of the sanctuary that was my own home._

_I learned that little fact the hard way two months back, when I stole a couple of fruits from a nearby store. I had run out of food at the time, and I was in desperate need of something to eat. Stealing was my only option at the time, since I forgot to bring some money of my own in case a situation like finding food arose. However, when I stole a good amount food to last me a good couple of weeks, I suddenly came upon a bunch of other kids. Clearly, they had also been living in the streets just like me; the only difference was that they probably did not catch up on reading...or common sense.._

_"What'cha got there, kid?" One of the taller kids who stood at the front spoke first. He had to be the leader of the group of other kids standing about, since he stood at least a few inches taller than the rest. He had shaggy black hair, green eyes, and a ragged shirt with a few holes punched into it. It looked a bit dirty judging by the discoloration, while his pants looked cleaner than the oddly colored shirt. It gave me the impression that he may have stolen them. The only thing he wore on his feet were a pair of worn out sandals, which I found a little stupid at the time but said nothing about it. He was also a bit on the chubby side, but it did not mean much to me._

_I stared at him with nothing but a blank expression, taking not to the fact that they were only several feet from where I stood, before responding, "It's called food, dimwit," I scannrf him over a bit, "something you know a lot about."_

_He immediately glared at me; no doubt he did not appreciate the last comment._

_"What's that supposed to mean?!" He snapped. Clearly, he was not brightest or knowledgeable kid on the streets, meaning any comebacks I retorted with would have to be explained. There were times when I felt I was growing up and maturing a lot faster than other children running about._

_I sighed before turning a bit to look at him. "It means," I started, "that I'm assuming you know a lot about food, since you're a little bit on the...__**chubby**__ side, for lack of a better term."_

_The other kids behind him looked at one another, surprised to hear such a thing spoken to their leader (let alone from a girl), as the leading kid growled at me._

_"It's not my fault, you know!" He retorted. Then, he pointed to himself with his thumb. "I've been living in the streets for almost a year now, and I tend get hungry fast!"_

_I raised an eyebrow briefly before asking, "How? By running around the city , because it's quite obvious you haven't gone for a jog in some time."_

_Thoroughly upset with the comments I'm making about his weight, his arm reached out toward me, as if he was asking me to give him something and said, "Just shut up and give us all your food! And since you think you're tough, give us everything else you've got on you!"_

_I blinked at his words before taking a bite out of the apple I was eating._

_"No," I replied bluntly while chewing on the food._

_Once again, the boys behind him looked at one another, surprised that a girl was refusing to give up her stuff to their 'boss,' who seemed to become even angrier than before._

_"What'd you say?!" He growled._

_I rolled my eyes before swallowing the fruit._

_"I said no," I repeated myself. "Just because you think you can make yourself look tough around your so called lackeys doesn't mean you can intimidate every kid who has nothing but the clothes on their backs." I paused as my eyes narrowed in his direction. "And for your information, I've been living on the streets for nearly __**two and a half years**__. I've been out here much longer than you have, and I've been able to manage my weight fairly well. Either you're getting your 'friends' to do it because your lazy ass can't get out of your own damn seat to help them or you don't work out very much these days."_

_His glare hardened at my words._

_"You better give me your stuff, you little brat!" He exclaimed. "Just because you've been in the streets longer than me doesn't mean you can deny me when I'm telling you to hand your stuff over." He put his hands on his hips, almost like a super hero of sorts. "I'm bigger than you and I know I'm older than you," He was actually right about something, "so that means I have authority over you!"_

_"Actually, it doesn't, and I have every right to refuse giving away my stuff," I retorted in a calm tone, taking another bite of the apple. "Just because you make yourself look tough by gorging yourself in food doesn't make you a leader. You need to know the streets like I do, scout the areas, and over all know your surroundings like the back of your hand." I paused as I swallowed the apple. "I know nearly every single nook-and-cranky about this city, and I've survived this long by using that knowledge. But...it doesn't really matter to me. The only thing I care about is surviving on my own until I'm old enough get some sort of job, go through school, and live out my life as a citizen of Haven City." At those words, everyone, including the head honcho kid, started laughing hysterically. My face did not change expression at the sudden reaction, but on the inside I was becoming really irritated. "Any particular reason why you find it so funny?"_

_"You actually want to get a __**job**__?" The dark haired kid laughed. "T-that's the funniest thing I've ever heard in my life! What a loser!"._

_I raised an eyebrow, ignoring the comments coming from the other boys who agreed with their supposed leader, before shaking my head and said, "At least I plan to have a life, unlike you and your cronies."_

_"J-just stop, this is too funny!" He continued to laughing before walking over to me. "Now be a good little girl and hand over that bag of yours so we can be on our way." He started to reach over to grab my bag, but he did not realize I had finished my apple rather quickly until he found my hand gripping his wrist tightly. He yelped a bit as I applied some pressure onto it, forcing the other kids to stop laughing and stare at the scene before them. "Gah! Hey, let me go!" He shouted, trying to break free but to no avail._

_My eyes narrowed more, frustrated to a point where I did not want to deal with him any longer.._

_"I don't think so," I responded in a harsher tone. "If you think you can just waltz over to me and take my bag when I specifically told you no, you can think again. I'm not going to allow some sleazy fatso to take my stuff when I need it much more than you do."_

_He growled at me._

_"You little brat!" He snapped before grabbing the front of my hoodie with his free hand. In that instant, I grabbed his wrist that held onto my hoodie and applied some more pressure. Without even thinking, I found knocking the kid off his feet, tripping him, and slamming him onto the ground. He did not get hurt badly, but he was enough to knock him out cold for a bit and possibly create some bruises. His crew gasped at the sight before looking at me. I seemed to be wearing a somewhat surprised look._

_"Wow," I muttered, looking at my hands for a moment. "I didn't even know I could do that…" I smiled. "Maybe I'm getting my dad's strength."_

_"She took him down!" One of the kids exclaimed. I glanced over to find several of them pulling out weapons. "Get her!"_

_With that, the kids holding weapons began charging at me. I watched them for a long moment before sighing._

_"Idiots," I muttered as one of them swung his weapon at me._ Looks like those books about fighting are going to pay off...

_Before it could strike me with the object, I quickly took hold of it - a long, cylinder, bronze colored pipe - and kicked him right in the stomach to push him away. He accidentally released it as I did that, and I used my newly acquired weapon to block another attack from one of the other kids. I parried the weapon out of my way before spinning a bit and connecting my weapon with his side. He cried out in pain as he fell to the floor, gripping his injured and soon-to-be bruised side. Without breaking a sweat, I took down a few of the other kids with either a blow from my weapon, a few punches to the face or a kick to the stomach. Oddly enough, I was winning the fight against them, despite it being terrible odds. My experience with fighting, however, was one of the major reasons I was even able to hold my own against so many "fighters," so to speak. Then again, I realized that I was talking about the people who laughed at her for wanting a job; they probably thought it would be hysterical to actually read a book._

_One by one, each kid who chose to try and take me down dropped to the ground like flies after entering an electrical trap. No doubt they would find bruises on their faces later on, but that was something I cared very little about. Those who were still conscious after I knocked them to the ground simply lied on the floor, gripping their stomachs and sides in pain from my kicks and attacks from my weapon. The other kids, who chose to watch from the sidelines, eventually began to flee from the scene, not wanting to be next in line to be taken out like their friends before them. To me, it only showed just how trustworthy and how well formed their group really was in the end. In a way, I almost felt bad for them; to be a part of a group that would not even help one another was not a group to be a part of. Unfortunately, there was no other place they could go. As I knocked out the last of the attackers, I wondered if this was how it had been for a long period of time, that they were incapable of defending one another if it meant getting hurt themselves._

_Panting a bit in order to catch my breath, I scanned the group of kids that lied on the ground, groaning and writhing in pain. Much to my surprise, none of them actually started to cry like babies as I had partially anticipated, but simply lied there. For that, I gave them some respect, but it was not enough to earn it all. Staring at the weapon I took away from the first kid, I looked over briefly, contemplating on whether or not I should hold onto it for the future. Despite the fact that such an encounter was very unlikely, it would not be bad to at least hold onto it in case of emergencies. With that in mind, I nodded to myself and gripped it tighter. Better to be safe than sorry._

_"I should kill you for doing that to me..."_

_I blinked at the weakened voice of the main kid. After a moment, I looked over to find him trying to move, gripping his head from what I did to him. Despite that, I could see his green eyes glaring at me. Instead of just leaving him there, I turned around and made my way over to him, stepping over the still groaning children, before stopping right in front of his head. My free hand fell into the pocket of my hoodie and rested there, while the other hand continued to hold onto the pipe. The boy's eyes followed me the whole time, the glare still eminent in his eyes. I chose not to glare at him, finding it very childish that he would do it just because he was knocked out. Instead, I simply gave him a blank expression and shrugged in response to his words._

_"You should kill me," I spoke, "but I don't think you have the strength or the guts to try."_

_He smirked._

_"Then I'll get my boys to take you down," he said. "They'll do anything I tell them to, and they certainly won't hesitate!"_

_Blinking, I looked around for a moment, looking over the unconscious (or partially conscious) bodies of the boy's friends, before looking back at him._

_"You mean the ones lying on the ground around us," I questioned, "or the ones that left you hear to fend for yourself?"_

_"Don't worry," he answered confidently. "They'll be back. They would never leave their boss and comrades behind like this." His smirk grew. "Trust me. You'll be sorry when they get back!" My eyes narrowed a bit, more out of pity than anger. The fact that he was so keen on believing his friends would return kind of saddened me. He truly believed that, despite his supposed friends abandoning him, they would come back with more. That, or at least come back to help. In reality, there were probably never coming back, and if they were, they would never be able to answer why they ran off the way they did._

_Sighing, I raised my weapon in a way that looked as if I were going to stab him. His eyes widened at the sight, that look of fear crossing his eyes, just before he shut them. I stood there holding it above him for another moment, watching him quiver in fear over the possibility of being killed, before swiftly bringing it down. Instead of connecting to his face and ending his life, it landed a mere few inches from the side of his head, burrowing into the ground and remaining stagnant. When he realized he was not dead, he opened his eyes just as I dropped to one knee, my hand remaining on the pipe. My eyes remained connected to his, but were filled with intensity and seriousness._

_"Look," I spoke as if I were an adult sterning talking to a child. "I'm only going to tell you this once, so don't you forget it. Just because you send your boys out to take me down doesn't make you look good. It makes you look like a coward for not fighting your own battles. Not only that," I removed my hand from my pocket and threw my thumb over my shoulder to the other boys as well as those who left, "but your so called friends aren't coming back for you, not after what happened today. For all they know, they think you're a goner. That only shows how cowardly they really are and how much they really care about you."_

_I paused for a moment as my free hand fell upon my raised knee. "Although you've been a nuisance for trying to steal my stuff, oddly enough, I see potential in you. I can tell you look like someone who has been through a lot since you ran away from your home. At least, I'm assuming you ran away, but I don't know." My eyes glanced away. "I didn't go through much, to be honest. I'm not going to lie about that. In fact, the only reason I'm still wandering the streets like this is because I don't have a family to go to anymore. My mother is dead, and my father and sister have disappeared from the city. Only the Precursors know what happened to them. I'm on my own now, and I do things on my own without anyone's help." I closed my eyes briefly. "However, I vowed to make something of myself instead of remaining on the streets for the rest of my life."_

_I looked at him again. "As much as I really don't like you right now, I don't want that to be your future, either. You don't have to listen to me if you don't want to, but hear me out right now. You look like someone who could actually make something out of his life, but instead you're too upset about your past to think so. You think it'll hold you back from doing something you've always wanted to do. What that is I don't know, but I'm sure you know." I paused for a moment to let my words sink into his head. "I want you to do me a favor, kid. Forget about your past. What happened back then is done, there's nothing you can do to change it. I want you to do something with your life besides wasting it in the streets, as if your life was just trash. You deserve more than living like this, so why don't you stop having people do your work for you and fight your own battles, figure yourself out, and live your life the way you want to?"_

_With those words spoken, I picked up my pipe and got to my feet. The kid just stared at me, his mouth ajar in shock as I turned around and began walking away from him. Clearly, my words struck him to his core, much to my liking. Nevertheless, every word I had spoken to him was completely and undeniably true. I had to get the facts through his thick skull so he could understand what he had to do to actually be something in life instead of some low life kid in the streets. He had to know he could not live in the streets, and that he could make something out of himself. He thought he was a big shot going around stealing from other kids, but it was not good on his image at all. I felt he would be better off if he tried to at least do something, anything, to try to make a better life to live. As much as he bothered me and attempted to attack me just for the food and the stuff I had on me, I still felt a little bad for the way his life had turned out. He may not have been on the streets for as long as I had, but it probably was hard to leave his home behind. Then again, I had no clue what his past was like, so I could not say for sure if he actually took off or was abandoned._

_"Wait…" I stopped walking and turned my head toward the kid, who was now lying on his stomach and lifting himself off the ground. He looked up at me for a long moment, before smiling a bit. "Jacob…"_

_I raised an eyebrow at him._

_"Excuse me?" I spoke in a questioned tone._

_"My name...is Jacob," he said, "and I think understand what you mean. In a way, you're right. Living in the streets isn't what I wanted, but it felt like the only option I had left. I just...I just thought it was the easiest way to live." His head lowered. "I ran away from home because I felt pressured by my parents. They...they always told me to do this and that in order to become something I didn't know a lot about. They wanted to live their lives through me, and I couldn't take it. I thought...maybe living by myself would better, and at first it was...but..." He looked at me again. "You tell me there's a lot more to life than just living life in the streets, that I can actually take control of my destiny if I want to. I may just be a kid, but just looking at you and seeing how you act it means have can have the same free will to make my own decisions."_

_He smiled a bit and said, "I guess the only real reason I never really decided to get away from this life was because I didn't think anyone would believe in me. No one would think I had a chance. But you do. You can actually see that in someone like me, and you're one of the few people I know who thinks that way. I guess I just haven't been around the right people to get that feeling." His smile grew. "I guess I should say...thanks...and I hope we meet again someday."_

_I stared at him intently, letting his words sink into my mind. I was quite surprised to find my words had gone through someone as stubborn and leader like as him. To be honest, it made me give him a little credit and some respect. Despite his first impression, he was filled with the confidence to move on from the life he lived, but his friends and the life he lived was what held him back for the past year. He felt like he did not have enough motivation to actually get away from it, and felt like no one believed in him. He actually took my words to heart and told himself that he did have enough strength to get out of the streets like I planned and create his own path to happiness. Even though he had been viewed a role model for the few who may have looked up to him, he still felt empty on the inside. After what had happened today, I could see in his eyes that he was ready to move on. Maybe he would be able to convince those who looked up to him to follow right behind. When I thought about it, it made me feel I had done a chain of good deeds simply by using words to change the mind of a stubborn young boy who had nothing but the clothes on his back._

_I stood there for a long moment, staring into his green eyes, before smiling a bit in return. Maybe we weren't so different._

_"That sounds like a plan, Jacob…" I said, turning away from him a bit._

_He smirked mischievously._

_"Who knows?" He responded as I began walking away from him. "Maybe I'll become stronger and beat you when we meet up again…"_

_I smiled at his words and simply waved my hand as if brushing it off._

_"Maybe…" I called back. "But then again, maybe not…"_/i

* * *

"That's…very interesting…" said an intent looking Casey as she leaned against the wall of my cell. I sat on the cold hard bed as I watched her just as seriously, watching as she took in the words of my story. "I almost...half expected you to beat up little kids in the street as a child…"

I rolled my eyes at the teasing comment, but refused to smile.

"It was not exactly one of the things I wanted to do that day when I had just gotten food for myself," I explained, "but they were annoying me, so I had to teach them a lesson."

She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed.

"But here's my question," she started, "you tell me a bit about your time on the streets, and then suddenly bring up...Jacob character." She paused a moment. "What does he have to do with it your relationship with Erol?"

I sighed, placing my chin in my hands, and answered, "He introduced Erol to me when we were young, even though he didn't exactly _introduce_ him to me…" She raised an eyebrow in confusion, silently asking me to explain myself a bit further. When I noticed that expression, I went on. "What I mean is it looked as if we had just met on the streets out of nowhere…when in reality Erol knew about me long before I knew anything about him."

* * *

_"Hey!" I stopped in my tracks at the new and unfamiliar voice that had entered my ears. It had been a while since I heard a voice that was speaking directly to me; the last time was two months prior, back when I had met Jacob and his gang. I was not really sure how to react to it, since it was a long time since I had a real conversation that did not involve an all out brawl in the streets. As if he sensed that, he spoke again. "I'm not going to hurt you, but I wanted to get the chance to meet you." When I heard that sentence, I relaxed a bit, yet remained vigilant, before slowly glancing over my shoulder a bit and spotting the owner of the voice. It was a young boy, at least three years older than I was, with oddly flaming colored hair and amber eyes. He did not wear much from what I saw; just a regular white shirt, sweat pants, and shoes, though his shirt seemed to have a few black spots on it._

_I raised an eyebrow at him with wonder filling my eyes and I asked, "What brings you out in the streets of Haven? You look to have better things to do than meet a street girl like me."_

_He chuckled._

_"No, not really," he responded truthfully. "I was just strolling around the city when I spotted you from afar, and I recognized you as the girl who beat up my friend two months ago."_

_I blinked a few times and raised my eyebrows, recalling the event that had taken place two months back, as I turned toward him a little more before asking, "You mean…you know...Jacob?"_

_He nodded once._

_"That I do. In fact, he's my best friend," he explained to me. "Known each other for a couple years, until he disappeared and reappeared on the streets." His face lowered a bit. "Poor guy didn't know what he was looking for. Not until now, though."_

_"Until...now?" I inquired curiously._

_He looked at me._

_"Now, whenever I see him, all he talks about is changing his life into something better for himself, but has no clue as to what to do." I smiled a bit, remembering him saying something along those lines ,as the boy continued, "I asked him why he changed so suddenly, and he told me about all about you." He paused a moment. "If I am correct, he talked about a 'girl who single-handedly took down his boys without even breaking a sweat.'" He chuckled at the thought. "I couldn't help but laugh at him, but he said he wasn't kidding. Eventually, before he left, he said if I tried to look for you I should keep an eye out for either a black hood, green bangs, or blue eyes." He paused before smiling. "I must have found you, since I am looking at all three."_

_I shook my head a bit before turning to face him completely._

_"It seems you have," I said as I pulled off my hood, revealing my jaw length blond hair along with my green bangs and azure - not "blue," as he had referred to them - colored eyes. "It surprised me that he hasn't forgotten what I had said to him."_

_He stared at me for a long moment before smiling._

_"I think it's hard to forget the one person who changed his life." He pointed out, to which I laughed a bit. When I stopped, he suddenly asked, "What's your name? Jacob regrets not asking for your name, but could remember what you looked like if he saw you."_

_I looked at the sky for a moment before looking back at him._

_"Ciara," I replied. "My name is Ciara." He smiled, as if he was happy to have learned my name for his friend. "What about you, friend of Jacob? What's your name supposed to be?"_

_He was taken aback by the title I had given, but instead of questioning, he simply crossed his arms over his chest and said, "Call me Erol."_

_I blinked as I replayed his name repeatedly in my head, making sure I did not forget it. It was something rather different, yet it was also suited for him. I was not sure why, but I just assumed it was appropriate. After a moment, I smiled lightly and said, "Unusual name," He frowned a bit at that, while I chuckled and continued to say, "but I like it. Makes you different...kind of like your hair."_

_He rolled his eyes and muttered out loud, "How did I know you were going to make a comment about my hair?"_

_I laughed a bit at that and answered, "Just a hunch, I guess…"_

* * *

"After that, we just got to talking a little bit more, and I started to become a bit more comfortable around him," I went on, staring at my hands as well as the necklace in my right hand. "We talked about anything and everything we could think of off the top of our heads." My head lowered a bit. "Eventually, the sun started to fall, and I realized it was getting late for the both of us. Just before we parted ways, though, he asked me if I wanted to come with him and live with his family…"

"Seriously?" Casey asked, pushing herself off the wall a bit out of surprise. "Erol asked you to live with him already?"

I rolled my eyes at Casey's brightened expression.

"Yes, yes he did," I responded dully. "And since I was young and still had the desire to get off the streets...I said yes…"

"You've gotta be kidding me!" She placed a hand on her face. "That's crazy! And how old were you?"

"At least eight or nine years old…"

"Sweet mother of the Precursors!"

"Hey, it was a second chance for me! I decided to take that chance and live my life!" I paused as I came back to reality, leaning back a bit in my seat. "I thought…I thought he could help me accomplish that dream I had…but…"

Casey looked at me, tilting her head to one side. "But what?"

I looked back at her, stared down at my Wastelander attire, and looked back at her. The look in my eyes, despite trying to hide it, had a sense of pain in them. It was hard not to hide it all when thinking on the past.

"Look at me," I told her, raising my arms a bit as if I were presenting myself as a sacrifice. "Does it look like he's helped me at all?"

"It sounds like he did at one point," Casey pointed out, walking over to me and placing a hand on my shoulder armor, "but things changed as time went on. That's just a natural part of life."

I sighed and looked away from her.

"I know that, but..." My head lowered a bit, "but the change he went through...it doesn't look like the Erol I knew back then..." I looked up a bit toward the wall. "But that's a story for another day." I paused as I looked at her. "It's getting late. You should go get some rest. You have a lot to talk about tomorrow…"

She smiled, pat my shoulder lightly and began making her way to exit.

"I'll tell you what Erol thought about that day if you'd like," she said as she turned around and started punching numbers in to shut the door. "Not only that, but I might get some information about Jacob for you, just so you know what he's up to these days…"

I lied down on the cold bed, placed my hands behind my head and shut my eyes.

"I would be very grateful…" I paused and smiled, "…Casey."

She looked at me with a surprised expression just as the doors started to close, but I could sense a smile appear on her face seconds later.

"So we're on a first name basis, huh?" She questioned mischeviously.

I shook my head, but kept my eyes closed.

"Don't push your luck, woman."

She sighed, muttering a "Moment gone…" just as the doors closed and just as I drifted off to sleep, awaiting tomorrow a lot more than I expected.


	9. Another Side to the Story

**_General POV_**

Casey quietly wandered the eerily silent halls of the Palace, the dimly lit rays of the moonlight revealing her way back to her room. Her mind distracted her briefly, as she was thinking of so many things at once, though she seemed to know just where she was going without having to pay much atention to what went on, as she remembered every pathway of the palace, making it easy for her to reach her room again. Each step she took echoed through the long and empty hallway just as it had done in the past, yet it did not distact her from thinking on what had happened.

Her mind was still thinking about Ciara and what she told the therapist about the past, her mind filled with so many other questions. It was of her childhood memory, yes, and it even involved Erol just as she expected, as he had offered to bring her to a more appropriate setting than in the streets. Casey figured it was the start of their close relationship, since Ciara had nowhere else to go and and he was willing to give her a place to stay, ultimately giving her a second chance at life. However, Casey still wondered why Erol would do something like that in the first place. It could not be because he had feelings for her; he was much too young to know and understand the concept of love or relationships. Did he feel sorry for her? Possibly, but Erol was not the type to feel sorry about a lot of things. That being said, what was it? What could it have been that may have caused him to invite her into his life, his world, without thinking it through?

_It could have been Jacob_, she thought briefly. _Since Erol wouldn't have even known about Ciara if it wasn't for him, but it doesn't mean that Jacob convinced Erol to take her in..._

A sigh escaped her thin lips as she approached the door to her bedroom, punching in some numbers and allowing it to slide open. She ran a hand through her teal colored hair, her violet eyes hazy with fatigue, as she entered the room in a rather groggy manner. It was not much, but it was something that she was proud to call her own. She had a regular queen sized bed, the blanket and assortments of pillows varying in different browns, yellows, and oranges. Next to her bed was a table, where a lamp stood and left off for the time being. It was turned on for when she is busy reading a good book before going to bed, but tonight she would have to hold off on that. Sitting along the wall farthest from her - she chose against having a window, since she felt it was much too depressing to look over a dying city - was a desk filled with papers, different files from different people that she had worked with, mainly the guards, and a computer where even more files from the past were kept. It was a dark grey shade and had four cubbies leveled about six inches from the desk top. In them were files of papers, since she ran out of room to store her things. Besides the bathroom that was connected right next door, closest to her desk area, and her closet filled with her closes, boots, etc.; it was just a regular looking room.

When the door closed behind her, she could not helped but yawn and stretch a bit before dropping her arms to her sides, looking toward her desk almost immediately upon entering the room. She wanted to figure it all out tonight before heading to bed for the night, and taking notes of what she remembered was something she would do first. She wanted to find the answers she needed to hear in order to fully understand everything and make sense of the situation. The plan that was to take place was certainly a plan she desired, even if she had not thought of it from the beginning. Granted, it was going to take some time in order to get everything out of Ciara, all while supplying the information the fugitive wanted to know, but it would all be worth it in the end once all the pieces of the puzzle were put into place. If Casey was able to cooperate like she was now, then Casey would hopefully figure out, and possibly prove, the true reason behind Ciara and Erol's shattered and wounded past. Unfortunately, there were a few things that Ciara had no clue about. One of those things was the fact that Casey had to provide information, information she really did not know too much about. Asking Erol would be, undoubtedly, something she had to do. That would solve the part about his opinions about the first day they met, but what about the new character Jacob? She knew nothing about Jacob since she was hear, and never once did she hear his name. Nevertheless, if she was able to track him down, she would be able to figure out Erol's reason behind taking Ciara into his home if the Commander chose against giving her the answers she wanted.

A small, weary smirk appeared on the therapist's face as she approached her desk, which held her computer that allowed her to look up any of the files of the guards of the Krimzon Guard. Maybe she would actually get somewhere after so long of running into dead ends.

Before she could approach her desk, though, she stopped in her tracks, her elf-like ears catching wind of a sound she did not expect to hear within the confines of her room. It was unfamiliar to her, and rather close, which was what caused her to pause in her step in that instant. From what she could tell, it sounded an awful lot like...snoring? Blinking once out of confusion, she slowly turned her head toward her bed, catching sight of a mysterious form sitting on the edge of her bed. Her heart beat picked up as she slowly approached the figure, raising a hand toward it in order to get a feel of what it could have been. Once she was close enough to touch it, she placed a hand on a curved part of it, feeling warmth at its touch. Relief filled her body as she realized it was the shoulder of human being. After another moment, though, she blinked and stared at the person. Who was the guy, and why was he in her room? Now glaring out of annoyance, she slowly moved in front of the person, keeping her hand on his shoulder, before dropping to one knee.

"Alright, buddy," she spoke up. "I have no idea how you got into my room, nor do I want to know. If you want to talk, wait until morning to speak to me." Shaking his shoulder a bit, she caught a glimpse of his face from the dim lights of room, which were left at a faint dim whenever she was not there and were left that way until morning when she turned them on herself. The second she got a good look at his face, violet eyes widened with shock as recognition overwhelmed her. "_E-Erol_?" She spoke, her voice matching her expression. She placed her free hand on his other shoulder and shook him a bit more, hoping to wake him up from his sleep. "Erol, wake up!"

After shaking him a few more times, he stirred a bit in response. Casey stopped shaking him after realizing his amber orbs slowly fluttered open before gazing hazily back at her worried violet ones. It took him a moment to realize exactly who she was, but when he did, his eyes widened rather slightly as if he was trying to wake himself up.

"C-Casey..." His voice was filled with fatigue, making it clear to Casey that he been here waiting for her long enough to actually fall asleep.

The therapist placed a hand on his cheek in an almost motherly fashion and asked, "Erol, what the Hell are you doing here? It's the middle of the night."

He closed his eyes as if he were about to fall asleep again.

"I noticed, but...I didn't expect you to get back so late," he responded. "I've been waiting here for...awhile."

Casey shook her head and responded, "It looks like you've been waiting for a couple of hours since you left with Rachel." She paused for thought. "Why have you been waiting for me, anyway?"

He remained silent for a long moment before sighing, running a hand through his flame colored hair, and muttering, "I wanted to talk to you...about Ciara."

Casey's eyes widened slightly as she removed her hand from his cheek, surprised to hear that he had waited all that time just to converse with her about Ciara. Was he really willing to fight off sleep in order to talk about an old friend, a fugitive of the entire city, a woman he had broken so long ago? It was clear in his tired filled eyes that he had failed the first attempt at making amends, but it was clear he was not going to leave until he got what he wanted: atonement for hurting Ciara. If it were any other reason, Casey would have just pushed him out of the room and bade him good night before heading to bed herself despite the work she had to do. However, he was talking about Ciara, someone Erol seldom spoke about until she arrived that very morning. _Now that he's here_, she thought curiously, _I'll be able to get enough information out of him to satisfy Ciara tomorrow_. Hopefully, it would be enough to satisfy her for at least a day or so until she had more questions to ask. However, knowing Ciara and her stubbornness, it would be very difficult to tell what she was interested in hearing about. Nevertheless, Casey was sure getting at least some information out of the commander would be enough to keep the fugitive occupied for at least a day.

Violet eyes stared into amber eyes, which now appeared more awake than before, with slight disbelief, before finding her voice and asking, "What is it...that you want to know about her?"

He looked toward the desk for a moment before asking, "Remember when you brought up what I said to her nine years ago...about how I told her...that what happened in the past meant nothing me or something like that?" Casey blinked once as she recalled the words she said to the Commander, making him remember the horrible words he said to Ciara before she took off. Instead of answer with words, she mumbled a simply "Mmhm" while moving to sit next to him on her bed. He stared at the ground in what appeared to be shame, as if he could not look her in the eye, before continuing, "Well, I went to see her, like I had said I would, to try and make amends." She nodded once, recalling the moment he left his room to speak to her. "Well...she...she pointed out the same fact, but the way she said it..." He paused for a moment, remembering the past and bringing a pained expression on his features. "Her voice...it was filled with...with so much pain...so much anguish, that it hurt. A lot more than I thought it would."

"Now you understand how much your words hurt her," Casey told him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I tried to explain it to you in the beginning, but you were just too stubborn to listen to me. Now, you had to learn the hard way how much it hurt her."

"I know, I know..." He muttered, placing his face into his hands before sighing shakily. "I'm sorry, alright?"

"Don't apologize to me, Commander." She stated. "It's Ciara you need to apologize to for all of this."

He shook his head at the therapist's words.

"She'll never forgive me," he groaned with defeat; a characteristic foreign to even the Commander himself. "After what I said to her, I'm surprised she hasn't killed me yet."

"Just because she won't forgive you now doesn't mean she won't in the coming future," Casey explained. "Things change over time, Erol. Everyone knows that."

"I know, especially people," he pointed out. "Still, I'm surprised by how much everything has changed since Ciara and I were kids." He paused as his mind began to wander. "It feels like...it was only yesterday that I first met her on the streets of Haven City. Out of nowhere, in fact."

Casey blinked once, knowing she was getting somewhere with what Erol had to say about their first meeting, leaning closer to him. "Go on..."

He glanced at her, his eyes still filled with fatigue, yet looked forward at a wall and continued nonetheless.

"The first time I heard of Ciara was from my best friend many years ago, when I was about ten years old. He met her on the streets just the other day, or so he said. He wouldn't stop talking about her and how she made him see the error of his ways...something crazy like that."

"Tell me about Jacob," Casey requested almost quickly, earning a confused glance from Erol who did not realize that Casey had already heard of this best friend of his from Ciara. "Ciara brought up the same guy when I spoke to her today, and I would like to know a little about him."

Erol chuckled, clearly thinking of his friend once again, as he looked back at the wall.

"He wasn't the brightest kid around, but he certainly wasn't the stupidest either," he started to explain. "He lived with his parents, of course, but they were the kind that tried to control everything about his life. They told him he had to live a certain way, and that he would fail in life if he strove to far from the path." His head fell a bit. "He tried to be independent, trying to do things by himself, but his parents always scolded him for trying. After several years of dealing with them, he ran away and joined a bunch of kids living in the streets. Eventually, he started to rely on them to do his work, which they did not question. They needed a leader, and he just so happened to fill that spot. A year later, I ran into him on the streets." He chuckled a bit. "He gained a..._few pounds_ over the years, but he was the same Jacob that I remembered. When we reunited, we met up nearly every single day." He paused a moment as he looked back on the conversations he had with the boy. "He always talked about how he made the best decision in the world. He never wanted to go back to his parents and never wanted to be like them. Little did he realize, he was treating his friends and comrades the same way, bossing them around and telling them to live the way he waned them to. And then," A smile graced his lips, "Ciara came into the picture."

"Ciara explained this situation to me already, where she fought him and his friends," Casey spoke up, clearly listening to every word he said to her, "but...I wanna hear your interpretation of it, from Jacob's words."

He did not respond to her, like he was off in his own little world for a brief second, as he continued, "He spotted her carrying around a bag food that she stole. She was also eating...something...an apple, I think it was. He thought she would be an easy target." Casey's eyes furrowed a bit, to which Erol noticed that. "I said he wasn't the brightest kid, not the stupidest." To that, she shrugged and allowed him to continue. "Anyway, he wanted her to hand over the bag, since he hadn't eaten that much in the morning and was starving. Naturally, she refused to hand it over, making some..._comments_...about his weight, which pissed him off. He approached her and tried to take the bag from her himself, but she fought back, knocked him to the ground and knocked him out." He paused as he tried to think of the rest of Jacob's story. "He didn't remember much after that, only the brief cries of pain coming from the boys that were being defeated by the mysterious girl. Afterwards, when he came to, he still threatened to kill her for beating up "his boys." That was before he found her kneeling above him as a brown pipe shoved in the ground right next to his head." He closed his eyes. "She went on to explain how she saw potential in him, and that living in the streets was something she knew he did not want, but he stayed there because of his past. She went on to say that he shouldn't waste his life on the streets and to just let everything that happened go. Before left him there, he was able to introduce himself to her, and he hoped to meet her again someday."

Casey slowly sat back a bit on her bed, taking in all of the information given to her by the Commander, while folded his hands and stared at a wall. It was just as Ciara had told her, only it was Erol's version from what he heard from Jacob. Still, both stories were very similar to one another, so it confirmed that Ciara was not lying or making anything up. However, it technically was not what she wanted to hear, though it would be something worth telling Ciara. Instead, she wanted to hear about the first time Ciara and Erol met and how the Commander had interpreted it in comparison to the way Ciara did. It may not have been where she would get the most information, but it was certainly a start. Plus, she needed to get some more out of him in order to keep her side of the deal for the morning. If not, she would have to start from square one, something she could not stand doing. Therefore, she was not going to give up just yet, not when she was actually getting somewhere.

Glancing back at the Commander, she stared at his back for a long moment before sighing and sitting forward again.

"From what I can tell," she spoke slowly, "Ciara's story is very similar to what you've told me. Only hers was in more...detail."

He chuckled at her words.

"I'm not surprised." He stated with a smile. "Ciara always did have better memory than I did. Besides," His smile suddenly fell, "it's been a long time since he told me that story."

She leaned forward in her seat and looked at him.

"Then why don't I just ask him myself?" She suggested. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I asked him about that day myself."

At those words, he shook his head.

"You can't," he spoke, his voice dark and almost harsh, though she could tell he did not mean it that way.

Blinking, Casey eyed him for a moment.

"Why not?" She questioned curiously. "It's not as if he'll-"

"He's dead."

Silence took over as Casey's eye widened slightly and she gasped at his words. The way he said those two little words was much lower than Casey could ever imagine. _Dead? That can't be_, she thought. _But how?_ How could that be? How could he be dead? What could have happened for Jacob to befall such a gruesome fate as death? As she thought those questions, one important thought sprung to her mind: Did Ciara even know about his demise? Judging from her obliviousness and tone of voice, she most likely had no idea that he was deceased. Unfortunately, that did not end there. Casey was worried about how she was going to get a different view of what was going on. As far as she knew, Jacob had known both Erol and Ciara all too well, ever since they were children. She was not surprised, as he was the one who inadvertently brought the two together in the first place. However, did he expect the two to become more than friends? If so, he must have greatly supported them from the very beginning, since Erol was his best friend and Ciara had changed his life. Those were just a few questions that may be left unanswered permanently, and that worried her even further than before.

Violet eyes stared at Erol for another moment before looking away. She did not want to bring up any bad memories about him, but she had to know what had happened to him. _Ciara_ had to know what happened to him.

"If you can," she finally spoke in a low tone, "would you mind telling me...what had happened to him?" He looked at her and she looked at him; it was simultaneous, and they both knew it. "Ciara deserves to know what happened to him."

He shrugged before looking back at the wall in front of him as he muttered, "You're right. She does need to know what happened to her best friend, too."

"So...they were close," Casey stated, earning a small nod from the Commander.

"Those two were closer to one another as he and I were," he explained. "Even before they met again, I knew there was some connection between the two. He would go on for hours about her, how he wanted to meet her again on different terms and whatnot. In a way, it was because of him that I actually met Ciara for the first time."

"Tell me about that," Casey pressed, sitting forward on the bed once more. "Before you start explaining about what happened to Jacob, I'd...like to hear about how you two met."

He glanced at her for a moment, before continuing.

* * *

_"Hey," called a much younger Erol to a younger girl wearing a hood to shield her face from view. She stopped abruptly at the sound of his voice, but did not dare to turn around and face him._

_Although he had never seen her before, he had heard his best friend, Jacob, talk about that very same girl non-stop for what felt like years. By now, the flaming haired boy had a pretty good image in his mind at what he was looking at; the girl Jacob spoke of two months. He was still surprised to know he actually saw her in the distance, let alone in the streets. In fact, Erol did not expect to ever meet the girl who had changed his best friend's life, but only hear his friend talk about her for the next couple of years. Now that he saw her, he was unsure of what to do, what to say. Yes, he did call out to her, but it was a completely unconscious action that he pulled. Judging from the way she stood, she did not seem to trust him all that much._

_He felt himself smirk slightly._ She probably thinks I'm one of Jacob's "boys," _he thought to himself. That was not exactly the way he wanted to be depicted, and it did not take him long to say, "I'm not going to hurt you, but I wanted to get the chance to meet you."_

_At those words, he noticed her begin to turn her head toward him, her azure eyes locking onto his amber orbs for a moment before they began examining him. He did not seem to mind, as she was trying to make sure he was not some sort of threat to her._

_"What brings you out into the streets of Haven?" She spoke, sounding very mature for her young age. "You look to have better things to do than meet a street girl like me."_

_Erol chuckled at her words._

_"No, not really." He stated honestly. "I was just strolling around the city when I spotted you from afar, and I recognized you as the girl who beat up my friend two months ago."_

_He noticed her raise an eyebrow at his words, clearly recognizing who he was referring to, as she turned to face him a bit more._

_"You mean..." She started, "you know...Jacob?"_

_He chuckled at her surprised and curious tone._

_"That I do," he spoke. "In fact, he's my best friend. Known each other for a couple years, until he disappeared and reappeared on the streets." His face lowered a bit. "Poor guy didn't know what he was looking for. Not until now, though."_

_"Until...now?" The girl questioned._

_Erol looked back at her and said, "Now, whenever I see him, all he talks about is changing his life into something much better than before, but has no clue as to what to do." He noticed her smile a bit. "I asked him why he changed so suddenly, and he told me about all about you." He paused a moment. "If I am correct, he talked about a 'girl who single-handedly took down his boys without even breaking a sweat.'" He chuckled at the thought. "I couldn't help but laugh at him, but he said he wasn't kidding. Eventually, before he left, he said if I tried to look for you I should keep an eye out for either a black hood, green bangs, or blue eyes." He paused before smiling. "I must have found you, since I am looking at all three."_

_She shook her head as she turned to face him completely, becoming much more comfortable with his presence._

_"It seems you have." Then, she raised her hands to the hood that shielded her face from view and pushed it off, revealing shoulder length blond hair and green bangs. Her azure eyes remained the most prominent out of the three minor descriptions of her from Jacob. Although she was young, to Erol, she actually appeared...cute. "It surprised me," she went on, "that he hasn't forgotten what I had said to him."_

_He stared at her for a moment before saying, "I think it's hard to forget the one person who changed his life." She started laughing at that comment, a laugh that unconsciously made him smile even more. What was with this girl? Not only did she seem cute despite her calm exterior, but her laugh just drew him in. In a way, he would say she had a sort of charismatic aura about her. He could only wonder what her name was. To which, he suddenly asked, "What's your name? Jacob regrets not asking for your name, but could remember what you looked like if he saw you."_

_He watched her look up at the sky for a moment before looking back at him._

_"Ciara," she simply stated. "My name is Ciara." He replayed her name in his mind for a moment, embedding it so it would never be forgotten. Ciara...suited her, for some reason. "What about you, friend of Jacob?" She went on. "What's your name supposed to be?"_

_He blinked at the odd title she had temporarily given to him. Friend of Jacob, he wondered. Never been called that before. After a moment, he crossed his arms over his chest and responded, "Call me Erol."_

_Ciara blinked once, as if she were trying to remember his name as well, before a faint smile appeared on her face._

_"Unusual name," she spoke up after a few moments, earning a frown from Erol, "but I like it. Makes you different...kind of like your hair."_

_He rolled his eyes, knowing she was teasing him about his hair in a friendly manner, before muttering aloud, "How did I know you were going to make a comment about my hair?"_

_Ciara laughed a bit, making Erol smile a bit even more, as she answered, "Just a hunch, I guess..."_/i

* * *

"After that, we just continued to talk," Erol continued to explain, looking back on that day as if it was a dream. "There was so much that we talked about, I can't even remember most of it. Eventually, it started to get dark, and she pointed that out." He paused a moment as his eyes narrowed in thought. "Before she left, something inside me told me not to let her go. Something in me didn't want her to stay in the streets. So...I offered her a chance to live with me and my family...and...well, I'm sure you know that much."

Casey looked up at the ceiling of her room, nodding once in response, before stating, "And it was because of your desicion to have her live with you that she reunited with Jacob." Erol nodded once, muttering a small "Yeah." before staring at a wall. Slowly looking toward the ground, she sighed uncomfortably before saying, "Tell me what happened to Jacob...if you can, anyway."

She felt him tense up the moment she said those words. When she looked at him again, she realized that he had shut his amber eyes, as if he were trying to find the right words to say in order to explain what had happened to his friend. Then, he opened them again and continued staring at a wall.

"It was seven years ago, one year before Ciara returned to Haven," he started. "Jacob was sent on a mission to the Wasteland with Rachel, before she became Lieutenant, and several other Krimzon Guards. They were ordered take out a small Metal Head nest that had sprouted. It needed to be destroyed before they started to overpopulate. For at least an hour, we were in contact with them as they took them out one by one. It was going to turn out relatively easy for them." He paused a moment. "Then, the connection suddenly went dead just as Jacob was letting us know the mission was complete. It was like that for a good half an hour, while we frantically tried to find the connection. Then, the line immediately came back on, and the next thing I know, I'm listening to a hysterical Rachel requesting an immediate evacuation from the Wasteland. When we asked what had happened, she told us they were ambushed by some surviving Metal Heads and the communication was knocked out. Several of the guards were torn apart piece by piece, while Jacob and Rachel we left standing to fight them off. But then, before they were able to get out on time..."

Erol trailed off as his head lowered, remembering that day as if it were yesterday. Casey quietly watched him, still surprised by the emotions the Commander was actually showing despite the exterior he put off toward everyone else.

On the outside, he was viewed as an arrogant, sadistic, and at times evil person. He enjoyed watching other people falling into despair and misery, and hated losing in...well, _anything_. From what Casey had heard, he did not have a lot of friends who shared those views. However, as he spoke about Jacob the way he did, the therapist realized the close relationship he had. It made it seem like all of the things she heard were complete lies, hoaxes in an attempt to bring him down. Then again, the people who believed that only saw what was on the outside. On the inside, to put it bluntly, he was fucked up, really, _really_ fucked up. He lost one of his best friends to the Metal Heads, he broke the heart of his female friend..._twice_, and he had to deal with seeing her for however long the Baron wished to keep her, thinking she would be able to forgive him after everything that had happened. Well, what _supposedly_ happened anyway, since Erol denied what happened back then. Still, to know he had to deal with all of that added with the fact that he had duties as a Commander all while finding a way to deal with the Metal Heads...

She was getting a headache just _thinking_ about it.

"What...happened...?" She pressed reluctantly. His expression made him appear as if he were about to cry, but she knew Erol too well. He would never, _ever_, cry in front of anyone, no matter who it was.

"Before they were able to get out," the Commander continued slowly, "one of the Metal Heads got to Jacob and dragged him back, and the rest started attacking him from all sides..." He paused as he remembered Rachel's words that day. "The last thing Rachel heard from him...was the sound of his screaming..."

Casey's chest tightened at his words, descriptive (and unwanted) images appearing before her of the possibilities that could have ended Jacob's life.

"I'm...I'm so sorry..." She muttered, staring down toward the ground. "I...I didn't mean to bring up something so...personal..."

"Don't worry about it," he responded, glancing at her. "It would be...better...if you told Ciara anyway..."

The therapist looked at him and questioned, "Why is that?"

"She's starting to trust you, Casey," he told her. "She's starting to tell you something already. It may not be much, but it's better than what I got." He closed his eyes. "For six months, the only thing she would do was make witty comments and poke fun at me and Jacob. She respected us and treated us like friends, but she never went into anything personal. Six months later, though, all of that changed in an instant." He paused a moment and opened his eyes again, looking down at the floor this time. "I remember Jacob running up me, franticall saying that Ciara went missing, that she just vanished into thin air." Erol chuckled, recalling just how hysterical Jacob was the day Ciara just left without saying a word. "Worried about her safety, I chased after her. I searched everywhere for her, every corner, every crack, every single place where she could have possibly been to. Jacob helped, of course, but eventually, I was the one who found her. She was at the docks, just sitting there on the edge staring at her reflection in the water like a statue." His eyes narrowed a bit at the memory. "She had this...pained expression on her face, as if something she saw sparked an old memory. When I asked her what was wrong...she told me everything. About her mother, her father and sister, everything. By the end, she was in tears, clinging to me for dear life."

"By the Precursors..." Casey muttered to herself, shocked to hear how stubborn Ciara really was in comparison today.

Erol looked at her.

"Six months," he stated. "Just for her to even bring up her past to me took her six months. For you, it took you...hours, and you barely even know her." He paused. "It may not seem like it now, but she's warming up to you faster than she did with me and Jake."

The therapist shrugged and said, "I do have a way with words. Besides," She smirked, "in a way, she and I are closer than you think." Erol blinked at her words, but before he could ask, Casey got to her feet. "It's late, and I need to rest." She looked at Erol. "And _you_ need to get the Hell out of my room."

The Commander chuckled as he got to his feet.

"You're right," he spoke as he approached the door. Before he left, though, he stopped and turned his head toward her. "What you're doing for Ciara...for me..." He looked her in the eye. "Thanks."

Casey blinked for a moment before smirking.

"The Commander is actually thanking me for something?" She asked in mock surprise. "I'm flattered! I guess I was right when I assumed Ciara was a big part of your life."

He turned back to the door while shaking his head.

"To be honest..." He started, "she means a lot more to me than you think."

"Believe me, Commander..." She spoke softly as he exited the room. "I know _exactly_ how you feel..."


	10. A Moment of Happiness

**_The Next Morning..._**

**_Ciara's POV_**

Azure eyes slowly opened as I awoke from another dreamless, yet refreshing slumber. Even though my eyes opened, I was unable to tell what the time was within the confines of the cell. It only made me realize that I was still hear, and everything that had happened yesterday was a reality. Sighing, I rubbed my face to wake myself up and and moved into a sitting position on the cold bed.

Yesterday's events between Erol and I still lingered in my mind, as I had been thinking about it long after I drifted to sleep. Although I had thought about it for most of the night, not a single dream had come to me in my sleep, much to my surprise. _It must not have been as important as I thought it was_, I told myself as I pushed away the thin blanket that failed to keep me warm. If I did not dream of it, then it did not matter to me. That was what I believed, at least. Despite that, though, the moment I woke up, that single memory still came rushing back to my mind, bothering me and nagging at me to a point where I wanted to just go back to sleep and forget it ever happened. It would not leave me alone no matter how hard I tried to push it to the side for awhile and focus on the new day amongst the Krimzon Guards. What Erol and I had in the past, or at least what I _thought_ we had, died off years ago. They were crushed when he decided to betray me and everything we lived up for, everything we promised to do, everything we promised to be some day.

Sighing in frustration, I swung my legs off the side of my bed and simply sat there, staring at the ground with a blank stare. _But why_, I wondered. _Why would he even try to pull a stunt like that, especially when he was with Rachel?_ Things just did not add up. Knowing Erol, he was never the one to cause anyone to have mixed emotions about...well, _anything_, especially when it came to someone like me. He was always straightforward and to the point, never hiding how he felt about the little things, like people who tried to mess with him. When it came to feelings and relationships, though, I knew he was a completely different person altogether. Still, he seemed to feel uncomfortable to talk about it at first, but it was usually because he did not know how to word most things in the right way and 1) have make it make sense and 2) not have him sound like the arrogant asshole everyone knew. I could not blame him that much, for I was the same way when I first started talking about the more personal things of my past life.

Pursing my lips, I placed my face in my hands. _Relationships are stupid, pointless...and a pain in my ass._

The sound of the prison doors opening echoed throughout my prison room, making me look up toward it to see who it was that was coming to see me at this time of day. It could not have been the Baron; only the Precursors knew what he was up to at this time of day..._whatever_ the time was, seeing how this place never got any real sunlight that was not the light of the ones already here. As the door opened completely, the figure entered the room rather quickly, barely even saying a word to me at all. Suddenly, before I could get a word out, something was thrown right into my face, some soft material I presumed, that landed on my lap soon after. I frowned the moment the material fell upon my lap, and my brows furrowed as I looked up to find a very familiar, and actually wanted, face smiling innocently at me.

"A good morning would have been a little better, Casey," I said blandly as I picked up the pile and placed it next to me next to me.

The therapist giggled at my words.

"I was just getting to that, my dear fugitive," she responded in a matter-of-fact tone of voice as she placed a pair of black, knee high combat boots right next to my feet. "Good morning, sweetheart!"

My frown grew slightly as she lightly pat my cheek a few times.

"_Don't_ call me _sweetheart_," I growled, pushing her hands away from my cheeks. "I hate that word."

She laughed at my angered and annoyed expression before saying, "Alright, alright. I'm just messing with you." Her head tilted to the side a moment as she observed me. "You look like a pouty little girl when you're annoyed."

Rolling my eyes, I ran a hand through my disheveled bangs and asked, "What are you doing here, anyway? I didn't think you would be up at this time of day."

She laughed again and placed her hands on her hips.

"It's only nine in the morning, Ciara," she stated. I blinked as she went on. "I usually wake up at eight in the morning on a normal schedule, and it takes me an hour to get ready for the day." She shrugged innocently. "Besides, I woke up at least a half an hour early to get ready and grab some clothes for you."

I raised an eyebrow with slight interest.

"Clothes?" She nodded as I glanced at the material next to me before looking back at her. "You mean you woke up a half an hour early, got ready, and came all this way down here...just to bring me..._clothes_?"

"Of course!" She smiled cheerfully. "We wouldn't want you wearing _those_ all the time, now would we?"

Blinking again, I glanced down at my own attire, which was what I had worn back in Spargus before arriving under the custody of the Krimzon Guard. It was what I had worn all the time, granted I had taken the time before heading to bed to wash everything as thoroughly as possible. Not only that, but I did have other clothes to wear when I was not on the job. _There is nothing wrong with my attire_, I thought as I looked back at the clothes. Just because it was out of the normal within the palace walls did not mean I had to wear the same things that everyone else wore. However, this was Casey I was talking about, and she did not particularly enjoy listening to the Baron and his orders all that much to begin with. What did she have mind when picking out an outfit for me? Did she look for one that would best suit me while going against everything the Baron planned at the same time?

Pursing my lips, I looked back at her, noticing her glancing back and forth between me and the clothes. _Well_, I told myself as I outwardly sighed, _I can't trust anyone else here, and Casey's the only person who is actually making an effort in...well, anything. What did I have to lose?_

"Whatever..." I muttered as I rolled my eyes and picked up the first article of clothing, which happened to the be a shirt of sorts.

As I picked it up, I looked it over and realized that it was a grey colored tank top. My eyes widened a bit at the side, and I could have sworn I felt a blush creeping onto my face. Around the waist of the top was a blue colored waistband with rectangular buckle, which could be said to show off the few curves I might have had, if I could call them that since, according to Rachel back in the day, I was "as thin and curvaceous as a wooden plank." Looking down at the other clothes, I spotted a pair of dark colored fingerless gloves and a dark blue weapon strap, one that would go around my waist. For what weapons I would be carrying was beyond my knowledge. A pair of black shorts went with it, stopping several inches above the knees. A dark colored, button up vest lied on top of the clothes as well, probably to cover up what was showing of my shoulders.

I glared over at Casey, who had a sheepish and childlike expression on her face. It was as if she expected the expression on my face to appear, and the outfit was pretty much intentional.

"Is this some kind of a joke?" I hissed angrily, gripping the top to a point where it almost ripped in two. "Because as you can see, _I'm not laughing._" It was clear she had picked it out to poke fun at me, seeing as how I would be in a palace filled with mostly men added with the fact that she may or may not have been trying to restore what was left of my relationship with Erol.

"Nope," she responded. "No jokes here. I picked it out myself!"

I raised an eyebrow, not really impressed with her answer, before questioning, "You know, this almost makes it seem like I'm dressing up like some hooker?" When she continued smiling, I shook my head as I stood up. "Alright, whatever..." I murmured as I began taking off my armor and placing it on the metal bed.

"I'll keep this closed just in case," said Casey as she turned around and walked out of the cell. "Oh, and I made sure the cameras weren't recording, just in case there were any guards that happen to pass by while you were changing."

For the first time, a small, very small, smile graced my lips at her words as I began taking off my top and throwing it atop the armor.

"How..._thoughtful_...of you," I called out just as she began closing the door. It was at that point that, as I picked up the top and began slipping it on, it dawned on me all of a sudden.

_Why was she being so...kind to me_, I wondered. Why would she be so willing to speak to me and not even pretend to be afraid of what I was, what I had become? She was different in comparison to the other Krimzon Guards, that much I could easily. However, I never really knew anyone who was similar to her rebelliousness, other than Torn. If I could recall, he was very much similar to Casey in some aspects. The only difference between the two was that he actually had the guts to quit and join the Underground, let alone become their leader. Casey, not that she was afraid to do so, simply remained here and took it all, even though it was clear she did not like the Baron's dictatorship just as much as Torn. With that being said, why would she allow herself to deal with everything that was happening instead of leaving alongside Torn? Was she waiting for the right time to make her move? Probably when the Baron pulled – or planned to pull – something so drastic she would swoop in and put a stop to it, making herself into a traitor like Torn – in a good way.

Azure eyes lowered slightly as I finished putting on the top and locking the waistband in place at the front before moving toward the vest - a black, bleach studded vest. _She truly is_, I told myself as I slipped the vest on, _one of the most confusing people I had ever met_. Then, a small smile graced my lips. _And yet, she is the most interesting as well_.

After slipping on the vest and choosing to leave it open for the top to be seen, I moved on the shorts. I began stripping myself of the pair I had on, looking toward the door to be sure no one was peeking inside before continuing. It was an unconscious action, yet it was one I never questioned. Suddenly, the sound of another door within the prison was heard opening, making me pause again as if I were looking at whoever it was walking in sudden. Fortunately, I had Casey for that, and knowing her, she knew the definition of privacy.

"Oh, Erol! Good morning to you!" She spoke, making me curse under my breath. _What the Hell is Erol doing here?!_ "I didn't expect to see you here, especially at such an early hour of the morning!"

"Casey? What are you doing here?" The voice of the Commander echoed as his boots began approaching my cell.

"Oh, not much. Just waiting for Ciara to get changed into a more appropriate attire for the day," she stated. I shook my head as I threw the shorts atop my discarded top, bandages, and armor before picking up the new shorts that were there.

"Changing?" Erol questioned. "Why would she be changing?"

"Well, she isn't going to be staying here with those clothes all of the time, now is she?"

A short moment of silence passed by before Erol muttered, "I guess not."

"What are you doing here, anyway?" Casey questioned as I slipped on the shorts before moving onto the gloves, realizing that they had metal plates on them along with an engraving of a Seal of Mar on both. "Usually, you're up by about nine in the morning. You know, when I have to wake your lazy ass up."

"I came to get Ciara." He stated, ignoring the last comment. "The Baron has requested her presence." His words made me stop just as I picked up the gloves and slowly looked over at the door.

"Alright," Casey responded just as I was looking at the door, "but...what do _you_ want to see her for?"

"What are you talking about?" The Commander asked.

"You didn't come down here just to get her for the Baron, I know that much." She stated. "There's something else to it, something more than just what Praxis wants. And I want to know what it is." She paused for thought. "I'm curious, that's all. No need to give me that look."

It took a moment before the Commander sighed with defeat and responded with a low voice, "I just...want to see her..."

_What's with him_, I wondered to myself as I slowly began pulling off the brown gloves I had on. After a long moment of silence, I heard Casey laugh bit, mutter a small "Okay," and then the sound of the cell door – _my_ cell door – opening. Cursing under my breath, I quickly finished putting on one of the gloves before I moved on to slip on the boots that were still residing next to my bed. Then, I pulled out the tan cloth that kept my hair back in it's low ponytail, shaking it out and running my hands through it as best as I could. Once that was out of the way, I removed my other brown glove and tossed the both of them with the other clothes before looking down at the necklace that still resided on my hand. Once again, it had begun glowing, and it bewildered me for just a moment before I chose against worrying about it. Instead, I clenched my hand to hide it before slipping on the black glove, hiding it from view, before looking over at the door, which opened completely to reveal both Casey and Erol. Right in the nick of time.

"Alright, Commander," said the therapist as she walked in, still looking over shoulder toward him. "You wanted to see her," She looked back at me, "well, here she-"

She stopped walking and speaking at that point just as she looked at me, looking over the attire she had given to me. Blinking, I glanced over at Erol, only to find that he, too, was staring at me, his mouth slightly ajar as his eyes scanned over me for just a moment. Not really sure as to what to say his expression, I returned my attention back to Casey, who now wore that mischievous smile on her face. My eyes narrowed slightly, not feeling very comfortable with people staring at me in such an odd way.

"Do you _mind_?" I spoke in a bit of a sarcastic tone, crossing my arms over my chest as if trying to hide something. "I'm _very_ self-conscious about people staring at me, you know?"

"Wow..." Casey said, looking over me once more before placing my hands on my shoulders. "Ciara, you look...you look so-"

"Beautiful..." Eyes widened with surprise as my gaze immediately locked onto the amber orbs of the Commander, who was now staring into my azure ones with a bit of a dazed look. Casey also looked over at him, appearing surprised by his sudden choice of words. Silence enveloped the three of us as Casey and I stared at him, while he kept his eyes locked on me.

In that instant, something snapped, some strong, powerful memory that was locked away in my subconscious was immediately reawakened by that single word. It was a time when Erol and I were younger, many years ago, back before our relationship fell apart and we grew distant. It was one day, one single day that I, now, could not longer shake out of my head no matter how hard I tried. It stuck to me, and forced me to relive it over and over until it was engraved in my mind permanently. At that moment, I felt nothing at all. No other emotion seemed to enter my body, and I was just stuck on one single feeling. It was nothing but pure happiness. Happiness that actually made a small smile grace my lips. Unlike the others, this one that sent to Erol, of all the people in the world, was actually genuine. Not many people had been able to seen a genuine smile. Damas was one of the few exceptions that I could think of, since I greatly respected him and idolized him as a great leader, but to Erol? In my mind, I mentally kicked myself just as a smile graced the Commander's lips as well. He noticed my smile, and I knew for sure he was going to use it to his advantage in the coming future.

"Umm..." The both of us blinked as we looked at Casey, who was looking between the both of us with an odd expression. For a moment, she seemed confused as to what just happened, before realization struck her features and she smiled as if the fact was something she wanted. Not wanting her to say anything else, I cleared my throat, forcing away the blush that had formed on my cheeks.

"A-anyway," I looked over at Erol, but did not look him in the eye, "y-you said the Baron wanted to see me, correct?"

It took a moment for Erol to mutter a small, "Y-yeah..."

Trying not to worry about the previous events for a second time, I nodded once before swiftly moving past him, doing my best not to bump into him. Casey following close behind, and I kept my head low to avoid eye contact with him again. Oddly enough, a blush began to fill my cheeks as I, once again, recalled Erol's comment, yet I tried not to worry about it too much. However, as I was distracted by that, I felt a tap on my shoulder. Looking over my shoulder, I spotted Casey, who had a small smile on her face.

"Why don't you go on ahead and wait at the door, Ciara?" She told me in a low tone. "I've gotta talk to Erol about something...important."

Not in the mood to question her or wonder why, I nodded once before picking up my pace, wanting to get the Hell out of there as fast as I could. Just as I approached the doors leading out of the prison and into the fortress, I look over my shoulder for just a brief moment, a moment that I thought was bad timing. Just before the doors closed behind, I caught Erol's eyes looking me, and for a split second, a small, very noticeable smile appeared on my lips. It was the first time in years that he ever made me smile...even if it was a small one.


	11. Of Propositions and Unbalance

**A/N:**

**I don't usually do these, but due to the long absence, this needs to be here for a little while.**

**For those who have read this story in the past or haven't seen the summary recently, I have edited the first ten chapters of this story, and changes have been put into place, changes that will greatly affect this story. It would be recommended that you reread the story and give thoughts about what you think in the reviews. I do apologize for the extremely long wait for an update, but I do have a couple of chapters typed out and under reconstruction. I'll try to have this up and going as soon as I can with the summer up and coming. **

* * *

A light glare filled my azure eyes as Casey, Erol, and I entered the Palace throne room, feeling out of place once again. The second I entered the oversized room, I noticed the Baron standing near the window once again, staring down at the city he, unfortunately, called his own. It was completely silent between the three of us during our travel here, mostly on my part as Casey tried to make some small talk with Erol – she was hoping she would say something that would bring me into the conversation, but it did not work. Instead, only the sound of our boots against the carpet was heard for most and nothing else.

It was more or less an awkward and possibly uncomfortable silence between Erol and I, since I was still thinking about how he had unconsciously called me beautiful, only for it to trigger a rather unexpected happy memory from our past, one I had not recalled in many years. Casey appeared much calmer than the both of us, seemingly more relaxed and laidback than awkward, yet she was still curious about what had happened. I was unable to hear the conversation that they had when I waited for them outside, but when they came through, Erol did not really say anything about it, and Casey told me not to worry. In a way, it was as if she had paid no mind to the situation that had taken place mere moments ago and played it off as if it were just a dream. I would have been bothered by her strange ways about not reacting in a more appropriate manner, but instead I did not seem to care less about what she thought anymore. It was none of my business to know what went on in that head of hers, and frankly I did not want to find out.

As we approached Praxis' demonic form, he turned his head over toward us, sending us - more to me than Erol and Casey - a casual, yet menacing looking smirk. My eyes narrowed even more at the sight of him, holding back every urge to just take him out just like I always wanted to do since Damas' banishment years ago. I sensed Casey put on an indifferent aura as she watched the Baron, but even then I could tell she did not like him all that much either. In fact, she probably matched my hatred for him perfectly, but did not voice it the way I did on a consistent occasion. It was to make sure he did not forget, and forget he did not. Unlike me, she actually needed a job to support herself (and maybe her family, if she had any), and saying anything against the Baron would probably get her fired, or worse killed off without a second thought. Then again, her carefree attitude was very much prominent, especially when it came to the Baron's authority over her and other people of the city. Has she been working with the Baron long enough to no longer care about her own job? It was possible, but not likely. She was not stupid enough to say something against Praxis at the expense of losing her job or her life.

However, it was as I said before; I did not want to find out what went on in that head of hers.

"Ah, glad to see you could make it, Ciara," Praxis spoke in a mock endearing tone, turning around to face us fully. "And without resistance, I see."

I stopped walking along with Erol and Casey, all while glaring at him still.

"Of course," I responded. "As much as I would love to go against your every wish, I currently have no power at the moment." I paused. "Still, it would be better if I was locked away in that prison cell than to be hear speaking to you."

He chuckled, making me growl for just a moment, before he said, "What a shame. I thought you would be happy to be out of that cell after twenty-four long hours."

"Yes," I spoke in a sarcastic, mischievous tone of voice, giggling briefly after recalling my brief time in the prison cell before heading to bed. "What a..._shame_..." Praxis noticed my change of attitude, but paid no mind to it as I continued, "So...what is it that you wish to speak to me about? It must be important if you had to send your Commander all the way down to the fortress to get me."

He looked back out the window for a long moment, making me wait for his reply like the bastard he was, before looking back at me once again.

"I have a bit of a..._proposition_...for you, young fugitive," he told me. "One that I think will be good for the both of us in the end."

I crossed my arms over my chest and raised a suspicious eyebrow

"And what, my _good_ man, would that be?" I asked sneeringly, choosing against playing oblivious.

He was able to sense my reaction and chuckled.

"By the tone of your voice," he stated, "it sounds as if you already know what I wish to ask of you." I chose not to nod at his words, but I gave him a look that agreed with his assumption. He simply chuckled before saying, "Then tell me."

"It's not that hard to figure out, Praxis," I hissed, venom dripping off my voice as I spoke his name. "You wish for me to rejoin your pathetic Krimzon Guard once again, use me for your own benefit against the Metal Head armies that may _once again_ break through the city walls." I paused for thought. "Or...you wish to finish what you started on me ten years ago; the DWP. Whichever comes first..."

He chuckled again; looks like I was right.

"The first one is true, no doubt about that," he responded, slowly making his way over to us, "and the second..." He shrugged, "well, it's on my list of possible things to do while you're around."

I rolled my eyes, but kept my anger at bay.

"I say no...to _both_ of them," I told him sternly, shifting my weight onto my left leg. "There's no way I would allow myself to join your pathetic excuse of an army again, especially after what you put me through!"

To annoy me further, he laughed at my words.

"We were so close with you, Ciara, and you know it." He taunted. It only pissed me off even further. "The Dark Warrior Program would have made you the perfect weapon against those Metal Heads, if you had not interrupted us at the last second!"

"I'm not some toy you can play around with and poke sticks at, Praxis!" I shouted, unable to contain my anger. My arms fell to their sides, and I sood up straight. "I happen to be a human being and would like to live a little longer! Besides, there is no way I would ever, _ever_, join this army ever again knowing you're still in command around here, using people as your play things in your Precursor forsaken program!" I paused briefly to calm myself and looked away, yet the anger still surrounded me like a cloud over a mountain top. After a moment, I looked back at him, keeping the harsh scowl. "My leader, no, Haven's _true_ leader, has always been Damas. I will find a way to take you off the throne that _you_ stole from him! Even if it means," I pointed to him as my eyes hardened, "killing you in the process!"

The gazes of Erol, Casey, and the Baron were fixated on me as I returned my hand back to my side, standing tall with pride against the worthless excuse of a leader that ruled over Haven. Each one was different than the other, which did not exactly surprise me all that much. Erol had a look that remained calm and collected during the tense argument, but he was slightly taken aback by my outburst and choice of words against the dictator. Casey seemed to have a more confident expression, holding back the smile that begged to show itself; it showed that she strongly agree with my words, but was less inclined to voice them herself. Praxis just looked at me with a dull, yet harden expression, one I seemed to have grown used over the years. His stare did not frighten me nor did mine threaten him. We simply stood there, staring one another down like hawks searching for prey, waiting for the other to crack under the intense gaze. It was clear neither of us were going to back down anytime soon, but neither of us really cared. It proved just how strong I could really be despite the difference in size in comparison. Fortunately, someone else other than one of us decided to break the tension between us.

"Um...Baron Praxis, sir?" Casey spoke up, raising her hand slightly in order to catch his attention. The both of us looked over at her simultaneously, the look in our eyes unwavering, and I could have sworn she shivered briefly at the sight. She cleared her throat before continuing with what she had to say. "If I may...I would like to make a suggestion of my own to add onto your proposition Ciara." I would have glared at her, but the look on her face suggested she had an idea.

"And what did you have in mind, Casey," he inquired, oblivious to the fact that she was thinking.

She placed her hands behind her back in a rather relaxed manner.

"I don't think she should join the Krimzon Guard," she told him right off the bat. I would have thanked her for the words, if she did not continue. "However, I would like to..._convince_ her into joining the force again. At a later time, of course." _What...?_ "Simply asking her or forcing her to join simply won't do, sir, especially with someone as hard-headed and stubborn as Ciara. I believe if she stayed a few days or a few weeks outside of her cell and was treated with...well, some respect, she may see things a little differently and change her mind about the decision." She looked at me, noticing the harsh scowl, before placing a hand on my shoulder and looking back at Praxis. "So far, she's been drugged, dropped, nearly choked to death," _Erol must have told her about yesterday_, "and emotionally stressed out. That's no way to make a guest feel, Praxis, especially when you want her amongst your army once again. They should be treated with the utmost respect and taken care of for however long they are around."

Baron simply looked at her; as far as I knew, he was not liking where Casey was going.

"Ciara may be used for the Dark Warrior Program, depending on how well she behaves herself," Praxis stated. I glared at him once again. "Why would I treat her as a guest when she is just an experiment?"

Casey raised a finger.

"Ah, ah, ah, that's not what she is, my good man," she remarked, as if she were a mother scolding a child. I blinked once before she spoke, "I would like to refer to her as...a patient."

I glanced at her again, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Come again?" I questioned in a low tone.

Casey glanced at me for a few seconds before looking back at the Baron once again.

"Yes, _my_ patient, to be exact," she continued. "You see, Ciara has been through a lot of emotional turmoil for the past several years, as you may have noticed, and it sounded as if I needed to come in and help her overcome these problems. There are many..._issues_ that need to be resolved in her life, and she has already agreed to let me help her." She allowed Praxis to take in the information for a moment. "Since that happens to be the case, I don't think putting her through such a traumatizing event again would be one of the best ideas."

I glanced at Praxis to notice his eyes narrowed a bit.

"What are you trying to say, Casey," he inquired. "That I should let her free as your patient?"

"Exactly, sir!" She exclaimed, smiling like a little child. "If she were my patient and placed under my care, she would have the freedom she desires and needs. Not only that," She smirked, "it will give me the opportunity to change her mind about joining the Krimzon Guard once more, since I know how great an asset she was to the army."

I glared at her once again and angrily whispered, "What the Hell are you trying to do?"

She simply looked at me, her smile growing ever so slightly before looking back at the Baron, who simply watched her intently as he thought on the plan that was presented to her.

Silence soon enveloped us as I lightly glared at the therapist, while she kept her calm, cool-looking gaze toward Praxis. _What the Hell is she thinking_, I thought. Joining the Krimzon Guard was something I vowed never to do again, no matter how much Praxis begged. I had made the mistake once of joining in the beginning, but there was no way I was going down that path again, no matter what the consequences happened to be. The looks Casey gave me, however, told me she had a complete. fortified plan in her mind. If that was the case, then what in the name of the Precursors was it? Was she only telling the Baron what he wanted to hear just so she could keep me out of my cell? It was a good possibility, that was for sure. Knowing my strong hatred for the Baron, there was no way she would allow me to go through such pain and torture without having some kind of plan in mind. Unfortunately, her eyes gave no clear sign, no message, to let me know things were going to be alright and work in my favor - or in this case, _our_ favor.

After another long moment of silence, the Baron started to laugh a bit and crossed his arms over his chest.

"You know," he finally spoke, "that...doesn't sound like a bad idea from my standpoint."

Casey nodded, keeping a casual expression on her face.

"Yes," she agreed. "I figured since she is going through so much turmoil, it is keeping her from joining our beloved ranks as a Krimzon Guard again." _Way to know how to woo the Baron, you bastard._ "If we give her the required help she needs, maybe it will persuade her into joining the army again and help us eliminate those bastard Metal Heads once and for all!"

At that point, the Baron laughed even more at her words. Giving up on what Casey had in mind, I decided to look over at Erol to see what he thought of the whole situation. Surprisingly, he was looking at me as well, but had a bit of a spaced out expression on his face. Half of his mind remained with the conversation at hand, while the other was just gone. I blinked once before looking away.

"I like where you're going with this, therapist," Praxis said, making me look at him. "As much as I could care less about what "turmoil" this fugitive is going through, as long as she joins my ranks once more and finishes the Dark Warrior Program, I could care less." He paused before nodding. "Alright, you've got yourself a deal. Take all the time you need, but it better not be too much."

Casey silently glanced at Erol, then at me, and back at the Baron.

"I would like to have a few weeks, if that is alright with you, sir," she requested, placing her hands at her hips. "I've become quite acquainted with the fugitive already, but a few more weeks should do the trick."

The Baron shook his head.

"I'll give you a month," he told her. Then, he looked at me, that hard look appearing in his eyes again. "Knowing her, she'll be difficult to crack."

Casey giggled.

"It's like you said, sir..." She smiled, but I could easily see it was fake. "I can take all the time I need."

* * *

"What the Hell is the matter with you?!" I finally snapped in the hallways as Erol and Casey started to lead me to a spare room the Baron decided to give to me, which happened to be near Casey's room. "What the Hell did you just do?!" All the pent up anger that was welling up inside of me since that conversation was now being taken out on the therapist. Oddly enough, she did not seem to mind at all. In fact, she appeared to have expected it to happen at some point.

Said therapist glanced over her shoulder and looked at me, her violet eyes staring into my angered and enraged azure orbs, with a smile gracing her lips.

"It's just as you saw and heard, Ciara." She said in a matter-of-fact tone. "You will be getting the 'treatment' you need before joining the Krimzon Guard for the next few weeks or so." Her smile grew. "I do have all the time in the world."

"What kind of plan is that?!" I shouted in response. "You expect me to join the Krimzon Guard after you help me? You traitor!"

"No, I'm not a traitor, first of all," she explained in a much calmer tone than mine. "And second, I'm not _really_ going to convince you to do anything else but tell me about your past. You should know that by now. I know you don't want to join the army again with the Baron in control, so I won't force you like he wants and thinks."

I glared at her and asked, "So what was all that about back there?" My arms crossed over my chest. "It sounded like you were only saying those things just to get the Baron on his good side for once."

She shrugged.

"That was one reason, yes," she responded truthfully, "but it's also to get you out of that cell and keep away from your memories of the past." I knew what she was referring to, but silently acknowledged her words. "Not only that, but I have an idea on how to heal and mend your relationship with-"

"Absolutely not," I interrupted her instantly, a glare filling my eyes. "I have absolutely no intentions to ever become...ireacquainted/i with the Commander." Erol glanced at me, but said nothing in response.

Casey, however, put on a serious expression and looked forward once again.

"You two have been reacquainted since yesterday, Ciara," she pointed out, "so there's no running away from it. Besides, from the way I see it, both of your lives are completely unbalanced and irregular. Without each other, you're lives are in...well, deep shit, for lack of a better term. I'm simply suggesting you two need one another in order to re-balance your lives and make them...complete."

I looked away from her.

"Count me out," I responded, crossing my arms over my chest. "I would rather keep my life unbalanced than to make the same mistake a third time."

She groaned with annoyance.

"You're so stubborn," she told me. "If you keep your life the way it is, you'll never be happy again." She looked at me; there was a strange look in her eyes, one that I was, surprisingly, unable to read. "Do you really wish to be unhappy for rest of your life?"

"So far, I've been unhappy for ten long years," I explained to her, glancing at her for only a brief moment. "I think I can handle the rest of my life being the same way."

At that point, she suddenly stopped walking, allowing Erol and I to walk past her without even realizing she had stopped dead in her tracks. It was not until we both looked over and found ourselves looking at each other that we realized she was not there. Immediately, we also stopped and turned around to look at her, wondering why she had stopped walking. The sight that stood before my eyes nearly made my jaw drop. Casey's teal bangs were shielding her violet eyes as her head lowered a bit, hiding her near pale face in complete shadow. Her body seemed to freeze instantly, almost as if she were a zombie that had been reawakened from the dead. In a way, it actually started to frighten me a little. It was not like her to act the way she was acting so suddenly. Clearly, it was something I had said, and when I thought about it, it was not hard to figure out what it was.

"No, you can't," she said, her voice lower than what I was used to hearing. "Living life as an unhappy person...is the _worst_ way to live." I blinked once at her words as she continued, "It can greatly affect the people around you, the people you care about the most. Not only that, but it can affect you, change you entirely. Anybody could take advantage of your unhappiness and use it to make you even more miserable than before. That's what I believe, anyway, and I don't want that to happen to you...not again."

My eyes narrowed a bit as I stared at her, my gloved hands falling upon my hips.

"Why would you care about what happens to me, Casey?" I questioned. "I only just met you yesterday, so there should be no reason for you to become so upset about how I choose to live my life, whether I choose to fuck it up or not."

"It doesn't matter how long I've known you, Ciara!" She retorted, raising her voice slightly as well as her head. "What matters is being unhappy can greatly affect how you live and change you into something completely different than what people are used to seeing you as. The people you love will turn their backs on you and leave you behind, making you become more depressed and unhappy as time goes on." She paused a moment. "I only care about what happens to you..." She looked at me, "because I've been unhappy for as long as I can remember. I know what it feels like, and it's something no one should ever have to go through."

My eyes widened at her words, shocked to hear something like that escape her lips. Casey, of all the people in the world I knew, was unhappy?

_No_, I told myself, _that's impossible_. There was no possible way someone as sarcastic, laid back and carefree as Casey could be unhappy. It did not seem like her style. She was able to put a genuine smile on her face and make people see otherwise; as far as I knew, sadness was not in her vocabulary. Yet there she was, standing in front of Erol and I with her head hanging low, voice dangerously close to a whisper, and an all around look of unhappiness. _This is not her_, I thought. It was not the Casey who had woken me up by yelling at me and throwing clothes in my face as means of saying good morning. She was not the one who became my therapist without permission and demanded I tell her about my personal past. She was not the one who treated me fairly, despite me treating her as if she were nothing but a waste of time. Instead, she was a completely different person, someone I had never seen before. Yet, despite knowing her for only a short amount of time, I felt pity toward her. Someone like her should not have felt unhappy when she did not have a reason. Whatever happened back then had to be important to make her the way she was when I looked at her now. She looked so fragile, almost as if she would break if pushed hard enough towards the edge of insanity.

Suddenly, a strange emotion came over me, a familiar feeling: it was as if I knew exactly how she felt...as if she were my reflection in a mirror.

After another moment, she looked back up at us, putting on a big grin, and walked past us with a bit of a pep to her step. Surprisingly, it looked to be completely genuine, as if she had not said anything to either of us at all. Erol and I simply watched her walk past us, turning around to notice her stop again before turning around.

"Well, here we are!" She beamed, point to her left in reference. I glanced in her direction to find a door sitting right smack in our faces. "This is going to be your room from now on." She paused as she noticed the light glare forming in my eyes. "And don't worry, Praxis didn't pick the room. I did. It belonged to an old female Krimzon Guard a couple months back, but she was killed in action. I decided to put you in her room so you can come visit me whenever you want, since I'm just down the hall, and vice versa!"

I slowly glanced back at her, her smile remaining on her face the entire time as she punched in the number and unlocked the door - fortunately, she told me the code before we got here, so if it locked I could just open it again. It actually frightened me a bit, but I chose not to show it. Although I wanted to question her strange, bipolar-ish attitude, but I decided against speaking about it. For the first time in years, I did not want to see someone as upset and unhappy as she was. For the first time in years, her sadness broke my own heart of steel and ice.

"Thanks..." I muttered, lowering my head a bit in the process.

With a small bounce in her step, she walked past the both of us, walking toward what I presumed to be the direction of her room.

"No problem," she called behind her. "If you want to talk to me, my room is down this hall, first door on the right. It's not that far at all! I'll see you later tonight so we can keep our deal intact!"

With that, she walked off toward the direction of her room, leaving behind Erol and I to watch her leave. I watched her for another moment before slowly looking up at the Commander. Surprisingly, he also looked back at me the same time. We stood there, watching each other intently without saying a word. I could tell that he was unsure as to what to say, and I knew that I did not really know what to talk about. A long, awkward silence fell between us, neither of us saying a word in order to strike up a conversation. Since I did not feel like speaking to him at the moment, especially after the awkward events from before, I decided to check out my new room. He, on the other hand, looked as if he wanted to say something, but it just would not come out and voice itself. After another long moment of silence between us, a sigh escaped my lips before a ran a hand through my bangs, preparing to turn toward the door and enter.

"You wanna know something," he finally spoke, his eyes never wavering from me.

I stopped myself from moving toward the door, though it looked like I was just standing there the whole time, and chose to keep staring at the ground.

"What?" I inquired, leaving out the harshness that I had just last night.

"She reminds me of someone I know very well," he pointed out. I glanced up at him, staring into his amber eyes for a long moment, before shaking my head. I would have smiled at the comment, but I forced myself not to do it.

"Yeah," I responded. "Me too..."

Erol stared at me for another long moment, before sighing and saying, "Listen, Ciara, I wanna apologize..." I looked towards my door. "You know, about calling you..."

"I know what you mean," I interrupted him, looking back at him once more. "Don't...don't worry about it..." After another moment of silence, he laughed a bit. I tilted my head to one side. "What is it?"

"To be honest, I...I remembered something about that moment that...happened to be a good memory of the past," he answered. "I wondered if...you remembered it, too."

I continued to stare at him for another long moment, before once again looking toward my door. I did not have to think about it to know what he was thinking.

"I do," I muttered, "but...it's a memory I'd rather not remember." Erol gave me a confused look, as if silently asking why. I lightly glared at his obliviousness, before sighing and walking towards my door. "Why should I remember a time when I was actually happy," I spoke as the door slid open, "if it was you who had made me that way in the first place? After everything that had happened, why should I look back on the times that you made me feel...happy?"

With those words out of the way, I entered my room in silence, leaving behind the dumbfounded Commander behind to repeat my words in his head. It was a shame I had to recall a moment of my life when that man actually made me happy. Now that I thought on it again, I knew for sure that specific memory would come back to haunt me no matter how much I wished to for it to leave my mind. Now only that, but since I was out of the prison, I would surely see Erol more frequently. That, and sooner or later Casey will go poking around asking about us. Who knew when those days would come and go? Frankly, as much as I knew that a deal was a deal, I wished it would never come. In fact, I wished all of the memories about him and I would just vanish completely, so I would never have to be in anymore pain than I already was and had to be in.

A sigh escaped my lips as the door shut completely behind me. If only I had a cold enough heart to mean those words...


	12. Promises

**_General POV_**

**_Three Days Later..._**

Damas quietly sat in his throne room, leisurely leaning against his armrest with his head on the palm. He had just dismissed a few of the soldiers giving him a heads up about the search and rescue plan for Ciara.

Everything was turning out just as he planned. A few of the spies had finished mapping up the Dig so the party Sig was in control of knew where to go and what to do. The small army was nearly complete the last time he had gotten word from the Wastelander. Damas knew they would not need a lot of soldiers for this particular mission, knowing his army was well trained, and decided to send in at least three hundred men, Sig included, to get the job done. In at least two more weeks, the invasion would take place, all to save one of his most respected fighters. He did not care whether or not he was sending an entire army to find Ciara. He had his reasons, reasons that were very important to him and the lives of Haven City. He knew his people would question why he was going to throw away so many lives just to save one person, one soldier, one girl, and expect it to be a good thing. There was only one reason behind trying to save his soldier: it was to protect the lives of millions of others, the people he once ruled over.

The King of Spargus closed his eyes. He did not know how long Ciara would last within the the Krimzon Guards' - more like the Baron's - grasp. It had been three days since her capture, causing him to worry for the people that still resided within the city. He knew she would be able to last a few more days without losing her cool, but it would only be a matter of time before she cracks. It was not the guards themselves that would do the job, but the Commander was one factor. He knew her relationship with the Commander was not exactly one of the best he had ever seen or heard of, but he was only just half of what could possibly turn into the worst case scenario. Not only that, but her hated for Rachel was just salt over the wounds. Now that she was in their vicinity, Damas was unsure if she would be able to survive a little longer than he anticipated, long enough for him to rescue her. She knew how to keep herself under control, and that much Damas was thankful for. How long would she be able to keep herself calm? He not only feared for her life, but feared for the people around her.

His eyes opened again, finding himself looking at the floor. Although Haven was no longer his city to protect, he did not want their lives to be massacred a third time in less than a decade.

The sound of the elevator mechanism sounded throughout the room, breaking the King from his thoughts about Ciara. He straightened himself in his seat almost instantly, not wanting to look informal to anyone who looked up to him. He could not lie to himself; being a King was very hard and tiring from time to time. With all of the responsibilities he had looming on his shoulders, it was easy to become tired. However, in the end, it was all worth it when he knew he was doing the right thing by protecting his people and others around him, though he made sure to have his limits when it came to the well being of others. The elevator slowly came into view, revealing one of his men with Akira sitting on his shoulder. His face was shrouded by a beige colored hood, letting Damas know he was one of the spies coming in to give him some news of Ciara's well being. He was not sure of what kind of news he would bring forth, but as long as he knew about Ciara's condition, he would be alright. At least, he hoped so.

"My Lord," spoke the spy, dropping to one knee in respect. "Word has come from Haven City of Ciara's condition."

"How is she?" Damas questioned, leaning into his seat a bit with anticipation.

The spy returned to his feet and stood up straight before saying, "She is doing well." He did not notice Damas relax a bit at the news. "According to our spy within the city, the Baron has removed her from her cell and placed her in a more 'appropriate' setting. A room of her own, he said."

Damas' eyes narrowed a bit, confusion spreading across his face, as he asked, "Her own room? What do you mean?"

"Well, the spy does not know that much at the current time," the man explained, "but from what I have been told, Ciara has been getting help from a 'therapist,' so to speak." Damas blinked. "What do you suppose Ciara would need a therapist for?"

"I assume its to keep her emotions in check just in case _It_ came out." The King presumed, looking down and placing a hand on his chin. "Other than that, I would not know beyond that." He looked back at the spy. "If you can, get the Haven spy to figure out Ciara's reasons for having this 'therapist.' And find out who this person is, just so we know we can trust him or her."

"Yes, sir!" The spy spoke bowed low before Akira jumped off his shoulder. With that, the spy turned around and headed toward the elevator once again without another word. Both Damas and Akira watched him as he disappeared down the wooden contraption, leaving the two alone in the throne room. As the elevator came to a stop, signaling that it had reached the bottom, Akira looked back at Damas. She did not say anything at first, but her presence was enough to grab his attention. "What is it, Akira?" He inquired, wondering why she chose against following her comrade.

The female ottsel looked away for a moment, staring at something that was not Damas, before returning her gaze back to him.

"Well," she started slowly. After a moment, determination filled her eyes as she continued. "I want to know if I can go back to Haven, sir."

Damas blinked at her words and asked, "You wish to go back?" She nodded once. "But why?"

"I have to find Ciara, sir," she explained, standing up straight. "I have to see her for myself, know if she really is alright. I can't take anyone else's word for it until I see her in person. Besides," She paused as her head lowered, ears falling back in what appeared to be complete and utter shame and guilt, "I abandoned her. Whether she told me to leave her behind or not, I left her there to be kidnapped by those Krimzon Guards..."

"We've already lost one warrior to the Krimzon Guard, Akira," Damas spoke, rising from his seat. "I don't plan to lose another one, especially not this soon."

This time, Akira puffed out her small chest a bit, determination now eminent in her pink colored eyes.

"They can't take me. They _won't_," she spoke. "I'm not going to let anyone get in my way in my search for Ciara. I can't stand listening to the words of another when they can only assume one idea and not another. It could easily change in a matter of hours, a matter of minutes or even seconds!" She looked at the ground, a look of concern crossing over her features. "I'm worried she might do something while no one is looking over her. I still don't know much about what happened in the past between her and Erol, and even with this...Rachel person, but as far as I know, there is no way I'm going to allow history to repeat itself. Not when so many innocent lives are on the line." She looked back at Damas; there was that earnest look in her pink colored eyes. "I want to be there for her, for my comrade, my best friend, my sister." She smiled suddenly. "Not only that, but I want you to have a clear mind when it comes to her control over "It," especially since she'll be around Erol and Rachel. So please, let me do this. Let me help keep Ciara's sanity in place for as long as I can."

Damas silently stared down at the young ottsel, her purposeful gaze meeting his blank and emotionless stare. Her words registered in his mind, informing him of her desire to search for her comrade, and it made him think.

As much as he did not want to believe it, she was right. There was no way of telling how long Ciara would last without killing someone, possibly the Commander. If Akira would keep an eye on her twenty-four seven until the rescue date, he would be able to have a clear state of mind. She could message him back and forth on her comrade's condition, maybe even speak to Ciara herself in secret to assure her that help was on the way. However, his uneasiness of losing another great Wastelander plagued his mind. He did not want to take the risk of losing another warrior despite her size and ability to escape. Then again, when he thought about it, _he_ was risking the lives of his army in order to save one person. Akira wished to do the same thing, but was willing to risk her own life and safety to keep an eye on Ciara for a while. In a way, Damas and Akira were on the same page, but were going about it in two completely different ways. With that said, what was the big deal about sending out a talented warrior to go out and keep an eye on her comrade?

After another few moments of silence, Damas sighed and closed his eyes.

"Alright," he finally spoke, reopening his eyes again to find Akira had perked up a bit by his words, "but only under two conditions."

The ottsel nodded furiously.

"Anything!" She exclaimed. "Anything you wish!"

The King smirked at her over-exuberant attitude before saying, "The first condition is to keep in contact with me at all times, and if you get the chance, allow me to speak with Ciara." She nodded once. "The second..." He paused, unconsciously adding a bit of intensity to the situation. Akira stared at him for a moment as he spoke up once again, his words drilling into her mind: "Keep _It_ at bay for as long as you can, and don't get yourself, Ciara, or anyone else in the city killed because of it."

She nodded once, smiling all the while.

"Don't worry, Damas," she informed him. "I won't let you down, not like I did with Ciara. That's a promise I _intend_ to keep."

**_Ciara's POV_**

Three days had gone by since my transfer to the new and completely furnished room. It was strange living within the Palace walls like some royal family member, but even as I walked through the halls it felt like someone was watching me. The fact that Baron did not trust me by myself was completely understandable; I just hoped he did not watch everything that I did.

On another note that kept me distracted from being watched nearly twenty-four seven, Casey had stopped by that same day to visit me, surprising me with a smile and a warm hug to boot. The events that took place before she introduced me to my new room were but a thing of the past, and she said nothing about it when she arrived. Instead, we both sat down on the bed and, since it was her day to talk, she kept her end of the deal and got down to explaining the things I wanted to know, one in particular what Erol thought about our "chance meeting," as she put it. She went on to tell me about Erol's opinions on how we first met, which seemed a bit out of the ordinary. His mannerisms and expressions surprised the therapist and even surprise me just a little. Just hearing about it left me a little speechless and unsure of how I should react, but she told me that it was nothing to worry about. Eventually, we got onto the topic of Jacob, though that one was just as odd. When I asked how he was doing, her eyes shifted briefly, looking toward anything that was not me, and suddenly looking at me and saying something about him going to the Wasteland for a mission before my arrival. Not wanting to question her reaction, I chose against asking anything else about it, and changed the subject to something we could both talk about until she had to leave.

The next day, when I tried to talk about what had happened after my encounter with Erol, I realized there was nothing eventful afterward besides meeting his parents, who were a bit surprised to find their son bringing home girls at such a young age. One thing did come up was when I told her about my reunion with Jacob, and how he was surprised to see me after so long. That was the only interesting topic to talk about, while everything else was just how life was living with someone I had just met. I did not lie to her about anything that happened between Erol and I. We talked all of the time about anything and everything that we could think of off the tops of our heads, just like our first meeting. Since I was living under the roof of total strangers, I had to look the part of the decent young child before warming up to them. Nevertheless, his parents treated as if I was their own, happy to have someone who was like another child.

"They said they always wanted a daughter of their own," I told her, repressing a smile as the memories of Erol's parents came to mind once more. "Having a little girl around the house didn't seem all that bad, seeing as how they had to deal with a boy for several years."

"No doubt about that," Casey said. "I bet they were surprised that you were about the same as he was, huh?"

I could not help but chuckle at the thought.

"They almost had a heart attack when they saw me hanging out with the boys more than the girls," I explained, "and yet they still treated me as if I was one of the family."

"But who would've thought," the therapist added, "that it would turned into something more than just being a member of the family, let alone a friend?"

"I certainly didn't," I responded. "I truly thought Erol and I were just gonna be friends for a long time. One could say we were inseparable..." I trailed off a moment before looking at myself, "And frankly, I don't know if I should be happy or upset about it."

"I say be happy about it, Ciara!" Casey pat my back and smiled warmly at me. "If you hadn't met him, you would been where you are today."

Silently, I looked her dead in the eye for just a brief second before looking down at my hands and muttering a small, "Clearly..."

I silently stared up at the ceiling of my bedroom, still getting used to the new, yet oddly familiar surroundings. Casey had just left after a long conversation, and I was busy relaxing and preparing myself to tell her something else from my past tomorrow. Although I did not enjoy talking about it, I oddly felt more comfortable around the therapist; it took a lot for me to actually admit despite only knowing her for a few days. It was as if she almost knew just what I was going through, or had experienced it once before in the past. I would not be surprised if that were the case, as she had admitting to being unhappy for quite sometime, yet hid behind every smile. Still, the fact remained: She was slowly gaining my trust, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. No matter how hard I tried, she just knew how to get me to talk, and I really was not sure what to make of it.

After yawning briefly, I placed my right hand on my stomach unconsciously. Instead of the old Wastelander outfit, which I was allowed to keep and had left it in the closet nearby, I simply put on some black pants with matching flats and a tan tank top. I wore a pair of dark brown gloves out of habit, since it reminded me of the Wasteland and kept me from feeling too homesick. The necklace still wrapped around said hand, only it was shielded from view by the glove, as I did not want people to see it and question where I had gotten it from. My hair still remained in its usual low ponytail, and my bangs still framed my face in an almost messy fashion. It was nothing much to say the least, but I was not within the Palace walls just to put on a show for any pigs that may reside in the army; in other, more simpler terms, I was not here to put on a show for them.

Once a few minutes of painstakingly slow ticking passed by, much thanks to the clock that was placed in my room, I suddenly brought my right hand from my stomach and looked at it, noticing the faint glow peering through the fabric. Azure eyes narrowed briefly out of annoyance at the sight of it. Despite being covered by such a dark colored fabric, it still glowed as brightly as the sun. Fortunately, despite the slight exaggeration of brightness, it was not enough to be seen at a distance. It did that a few times in the past three days, but for what reason I did not know for sure. I wanted to understand it, but due to my constant thoughts of escaping the hellhole, it was hard for me to focus on something as menial and unimportant as a glowing necklace. I knew that Damas was busy trying to figure out a way to help me – thanks to Akira's possibly successful escape – and thinking on that necklace was the last thing on my list.

My eyes opened again as the thought of my friends back in Spargus came to mind, especially Damas. I knew he would be able to rescue me before anything serious happened. I knew him too well; he would _never_ take the risk of "It" coming out and attacking the city for the third time. Unlike the Baron, he actually thought of the people and put them at the front of his mind. Of course, I was up there as well, seeing as how I was very much the cause of most of the damages, but I knew that I was a part of that portion of the people in Haven. I just hoped he had enough time to come here without getting taken out by the Baron and his army.

After another long moment of silence, a knock was heard against the metal door, causing me to blink out of my trance like state of mind. Looking over at the door, I sighed, grumbled something under my breath, and slowly sat up, wondering who it could have been this time. When the door sounded a second time, I rolled my eyes and got off the bed, choosing against putting on the shoes since I was not going anywhere else, before making my way over to the door with a pace of my own. I was not really in the mood for anymore visitors at the moment, but whoever chose to come visit had to have something important to talk about. Once there, I pressed a few buttons – the code I had to put in so that I could open the door or lock it behind me – before taking a step back and allowing the door to slide open. Crossing my arms across my chest, I placed most of my weight on my left leg just as the person was revealed to me, a person I was not all that surprised to see.

"Are you lost, Commander?" I questioned sarcastically, raising an eyebrow. "Do I need to draw you up a map of the Palace you've lived in for...how long?"

Erol eyed me for a long moment, before shaking his head. A smile had fallen on his lips at the same time, giving me the impression that he had caught on with my sarcasm.

"I know exactly where I am," he stated in response, "and know what I need to do here."

I blinked before asking, "And what would that be, if I may kindly ask?" He stood there for a long moment, just staring at me without saying a word. When I realized what it was that he was asking for, I sighed and turned around. "You can come in," I said as I walked back to my bed. "Just don't touch anything. I just finished cleaning ten minutes ago and would like to keep it that way."

"Again?" He asked as he followed me, listening to the sound of the door sliding shut behind him. "You just cleaned yesterday, though."

"I wanna make sure there aren't any...contagious diseases from the guard that was in here before me," I stated, sitting on my bed. "Woman or not, she was still one of your kind."

"We make extra sure they aren't sick," Erol assured me, taking a seat next to me. He was rather close, but I just stopped caring at that point. The only thing that was on my mind was why he was here. "You should know that by now."

"Are you sure, or is that what the Baron claims to be doing?" I questioned, raising a disinterested brow. He shook his head, smiling at the still present hatred I held for Praxis. After a brief moment of silence, I asked, "So what is it that you needed to do?"

Erol remained silent at my words once again, looking over to stare at a wall for an undetermined amount of time. It still surprised him that I had allowed him into my room without much 's words that she had said to us – how we needed each other to keep our lives balanced – still lingered in my mind and probably in his as well. It actually made me curious if that was really true, but before it could plague my mind further, I mentally shook off the thought. I refused to actually accept that ideal, no matter how true it might have been. It was impossible to need someone in order to keep one's life in balance; it was unheard of and a rather ridiculous assumption. Then again, it was Casey I was talking about, and she was one of the only people here that I was actually starting to trust little by little. Maybe her words were actually being taken into consideration without my conscious knowledge, and I was thinking about giving Erol _another_ chance.

My eyes narrowed at the thought as I looked down toward the ground. I was surprised that giving him another chance was even an option. After all that has happened, it was odd that I still found myself talking to him.

After a brief moment of silence, I heard Erol sigh, sensing his amber gaze upon me again.

"I know you probably don't want to hear this again, but I think you should at least think about it," he explained. My eyes navigated in his direction, but I did not look him in the eye. When the silence on my end set in, he went on. "I just...I just want the chance to...to start over."

This time, I took the opportunity to look at him, brows furrowing in slight disbelief. He was joking...right?

"Start over?" I inquired, my tone starting to become a little ticked. He nodded once, gaze unwavering; he was not joking. "You mean, you want me to _try_ and forget about a past that has nearly ruined my life and made me who I am today...just so we can start over?"

"That's not what I meant," he quickly spoke, turning to face me completely. Instead of speaking, I allowed him to continue by keeping quiet. "What I mean is...after everything that _has_ happened, I know you don't particularly like me." He paused a moment as he tried to find the right words. "I just...wanted to start over. You know, as...friends."

I remained silent for a moment, before shaking my head and standing up. How ridiculous...

"Just...friends...?" I muttered, keeping my head low. He simply nodded in response. Once again, I shook my head out of disbelief. "You..._are pathetic_..." I sneered. "To think...all this time, you just want to be _friends_." I looked over at him. "Have you forgotten everything that happened between us?"

"Of course I haven't," he stated, getting to his feet as well. "It's just that...starting the way we were before...you know..." I raised an eyebrow and locked my jaw. "Anyway, it wouldn't be safe to start there. As friends, maybe we can make our way up to that level again..."

"It's Rachel, isn't it?" I hissed angrily, that metaphorical venom spewing from the tone of my voice. He hesitated briefly, but briefly was just enough to upset me even further. "It _is_ her! I should have known! That's why we can't go back to the way we used to be!" I turned away from him and began moving toward the window. "It's always because of her!"

"No! She has nothing to do with it," he explained, a response I half expected yet again, as he followed suit.

I shook my head.

"_Right_..." I muttered bitingly. "That's what the excuse always is!" My head lowered as I stopped in front of the window, looking down at the city absently. "It's always her fault. It has been for years." My fists clenched just as he stopped to stand next to my right. "Whenever I try to come into your life again, she's suddenly there to block me out, keep me away and keep us apart. She won't leave you alone and is just asking to be murdered in a way no man has ever seen."

I felt his hand fall upon my shoulder, turning me to face him completely. I chose against looking at him, as I could feel those dreaded tears attempting to come out.

"Ciara, _nothing_ like that is going to happen," he assured me, placing his other hand on my shoulder. "I swear on my life..."

I refused to allow myself to stoop so low as to cry, especially not a second time in front of him. Instead, I slowly looked up at him, azure eyes locking onto amber.

"Prove it..." I murmured. "Prove to me that nothing like that will happen again. Because right now, I have no reason to believe anything that you are saying to me..."

Erol looked at me for a long moment, stared into my eyes for what seemed like forever. When what seemed like an eternity passed, he slowly pulled me close and brought me into an embrace. My eyes widened as he held me as if letting go would mean losing me forever. He said nothing at all and just stood there, waiting for me to react or respond to what he was doing. Unfortunately, I did not know how I was supposed to react to his sudden action. I did not know if I was supposed to push him away as my rational mind wanted or accept it as blindly as I had done so many years ago. Pushing him away would mean forgetting about everything that we had – our friendship, our relationship, our bond – and leaving it all behind to be whisked away by the wind. Accepting it, however, would help obtain everything that was lost, but risk the events of the past for a third time. A third betrayal was something I could not risk, not when the lives of the innocent were at stake. Still, I could not lie to myself; in spite of everything that happened between us and the emotions I felt toward him, I did want our relationship to return to the way it was.

For years, I constantly told myself that seeing him again - the Commander of the Krimzon Guard - would be the death of me in the end. He had betrayed me, lied to me, and severed everything that I worked so hard to obtain in the life I had. He had given me a home, a new life, a second chance, and just speaking of it as if it meant nothing at all struck so many chords. He hurt me to a point that I nearly ended it all, ended his life, when I had the chance. Yet here he was, working so hard to regain everything that was once lost, trying to patch everything up and mend the wounds. He was so determined to regain lost time and start over; in fact, it looked and sounded like he was desperate. As far as I knew, he hoped that, through a renewed friendship, we would be able to reach the status we once held before Rachel came into the picture. It surprised me to know how much he was dedicated to bringing us together again, even if the Lieutenant was in the way. Oddly enough, it made me respect Erol a lot more than I thought I would.

"Ciara," he muttered, bringing me back to reality. I blinked, yet said nothing as he went on. "I swear...no matter what happens, I promise nothing will ever come between us again. Praxis, Rachel, no one in the world would ever sever our friendship. Not again. I hope that..." His embrace tightened around me; I tensed, but once again said nothing, "I hope that...maybe one day...we can go back to the way things used to be. When we had no worries or nothing to get in the way of us. Should anything like that happen and you think I betrayed you again..." He paused for a moment, as if he were hesitating to go on. "Then...I give you full permission..._to kill me_."

I felt my heart and jaw drop at his words as my eyes widened with shock and surprise. Was he out of his mind?

"Erol..." I muttered. "You would...you would give up your own life...just to prove a point?" I felt him nod once. "Are you...are you mad?"

"It'll be considered punishment..." He explained, "and to make sure I won't do it again." My eyes shifted; for the first time in way seemed like a long time, the thought of ending Erol's life and wiping him from existence...frightened me to no end. "You've been hurt enough, all because you believe it was my fault." His head lowered a bit. "I'll admit that there may have been some things that would make you think that way, but...I never meant to hurt you. And I promise...it won't happen again. It's a promise I _intend_ to keep."

Unable to think clearly any longer, I suddenly felt my arms slowly move up to wrap around his waist, holding onto him for what seemed like dear life. I buried my face into his shoulder, inhaling deeply and taking in his scent, a scent that I remembered long after having kept my distance from him It was a position I did not expect to be in for the second time since my arrival, yet it seemed as if I no longer cared. As much as I could not forget the past, as much as it still hurt me, it sounded as if starting over would be the best for me, for the both of us. There were going to be obstacles in the coming future, I knew that much, but I knew that I was going to fight to, once again, keeping our friendship strong and lasting. I would still be wary of him, seeing as I had only just arrived after six years, but maybe, _just maybe_, things would return to normal.

"Alright..." I muttered, my grip around him tightening just a bit. "But this is the last chance you will _ever_ get."

"Trust me, Ciara," he responded. "One more chance is all I need."

_Was it?_ I thought, eyes closing completely. _Or are you just saying that to make me feel good?_ Was he really going to stick to everything he said to me, or was it just going to be a repeat of my past?


	13. Casey's Plan

**_The Next Day..._**

**_General POV_**

Casey silently watched in the shadows as Erol and Ciara passed from afar, talking as if they were friends reuniting for the first time since high school. She had to hide quickly in order to see if her eyes were not playing tricks on her and to avoid breaking the moment. It was as if something between them shifted literally overnight, but what that was she had absolutely no idea. It was a sight that completely threw the therapist off guard, as she expected a bit more time for it to happened, but at the same time a little happy as well.

She was surprised to find them the way they were, conversing like civilized human beings – even if Ciara did appear to be a little skeptic when looking at a certain angle. However, at the same time, she was also extremely happy and proud that things were going in her favor. It was _exactly_ what she wanted to happen for them. She wanted the two to make up and at least start from Square One. It may not been Ciara's cup of tea that they had to start over, especially since they would pretty much disregard what happened for the time being, but it was a start from where they were nearly just a few days ago. Casey assumed Erol had somehow convinced her into becoming at least friends, avoiding what they may have been more out of safety than anything, but how he did it was unknown. She was not upset that they did not say anything to her, but happy that they have come to a stalemate and accepted a truce. To Casey, she had hoped that truce would be permanent and last a lifetime.

Watching as the two passed by without even realizing she was there, Casey kept her violet eyes on them as she moved out of the shadows of the hallway that she hid in. She knew that, at the moment, their relationship would remain as friends for the time being. At least that was what she assumed they were at the present time. However, that was something she did not want to see. Well, she did want them to be friends, but at the same time it was not enough to satisfy what she had in mind. Instead, she wanted them to be close, just as close as they were when they were children. When that time came, she knew that everything about their past would disappear like the wind and they can truly start anew. They would be able to return to their past lives before the unspeakable events that took place, and they can truly be happy again. They could be happy _together_.

A frown spread out across her full lips as a thought came to her. Unfortunately, there was one obstacle that would get in the way of this utopian-esque plan that was slowly taking shape before her eyes. That obstacle was the ever present, and rather annoying at times, Lieutenant Rachel.

Erol and Rachel were currently in a relationship, and Casey was sure Ciara was well aware of that little fact. Because of that, pairing the rightful couple would be a bit of a challenge, at least on Casey's part. Knowing the Lieutenant and her strange mannerisms, Casey knew that Rachel was _very_ possessive over her things, whether it be relationship wise or just item wise. Rachel hated when people tried to come in a take her things without her permission, especially when in came to the Commander despite how incomplete they were together. Even Casey knew that Rachel treated him as if he was just an object, a possession that belonged to her alone. Oddly enough, though, she did not seem too upset over the fact that she caught him with Ciara. Did she realize what was actually going on between the two, or was she just too oblivious to even notice? It was hard to tell, but if Rachel did know something, there was nothing she could do about it. The therapist would never allow Rachel to ruin anything that was slowly falling into place between old friends. It was so close to completion, and ruining it would only be the end of everything they worked so hard to achieve. Well, everything that _Casey_ worked so hard to achieve.

Pursing her lips, she began walking down the hall once again, her mind wracking and the wheels turning slowly. _Forget about Rachel_, she told herself, _for now_. Right now, she was more worried about the future of the Commander and the fugitive than the petty jealousy of the Lieutenant. She wanted the relationship grow stronger, stronger than ever before, and keep it that way for good. That was her main goal. Unfortunately, with the Baron snooping about and waiting for the therapist to convince the ex-Krimzon Guard to rejoin the army again, there would be no way to plan anything special _inside_ the Palace.

At that thought, she slowed her pace down a moment and smirked, twirling a piece of teal hair in her fingers. They may not have been able to do anything _inside_ the Palace, but _outside_ was a completely different story. Outside, they could do as they pleased...for the most part; take a ride through the city, enjoy a night out, and be back before anyone even realized they were gone. _Especially_ before anyone realized Ciara was out and about instead of being locked up in her cell. Should word get out that the fugitive "escaped from prison," the Baron would hear about it in less than a half an hour's time. If he found out about it, he would take Ciara away and throw her back into the DWP, something that Casey wanted to prevent at all costs. She would have to do it in secret, just in case anyone found out about it and planned to tell Praxis or even Rachel. It was a big risk to take, as she would be accused of treason against the Baron and lose both her job and her right to live. For Ciara and Erol, though, being called a traitor was all worth it.

_Now that I see the issues with this_, she thought as her smile grew and her pace quickened. _I need to think this through._

* * *

"Excuse me, Commander?" Erol turned his head in the direction of the Krimzon Guard, pausing as he saluted the Commander briefly before continuing. "You've been requested by Casey, sir. She said it was of the utmost importance that you see her immediately."

Blinking curiously, Erol slowly nodded and asked, "Where is she now?"

"Her office," he answered almost robotically. "She had to work with one of the recruits that's going through some recent trauma." His head lowered a bit. "Poor bastard watched his team get torn apart by Metal Heads over at the Pumping Station just the other day."

"Not surprised," Erol muttered, rolling his eyes and looking away. "I warned him that getting too cocky will get himself or his team killed, but he never listens." He looked back at the guard. "He'll get over it, though, if he wants to stay in this army."

With that, he dismissed the officer with a simple wave of the hand and began making his way to Casey's office. The slow trek there had him thinking a moment, curious as to what it was that Casey was up to this time. Knowing the conniving little therapist that she was, she may have been up to no good yet again. He had not seen her around in a few days; no doubt she spent her time with a traumatized recruit or talking to Ciara about the past and fulfilling their deal. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but it had just been awhile since he saw her, especially since things were slowly – painstakingly slowly – looking better for once. He had gotten around to seeing Ciara whenever he was free from work and he was talking to his childhood friend again. That was all he wanted; just to see her, speak to her, and know that she was alright. Granted he may not have been able to make her smile as much as she did back then, but being there was better than nothing at all. She would start again, he hoped. When that day was, even he was not so sure about it at the present time.

At that thought, something occurred to him, something he did not realize until now. Since he had not seen Casey, he was unable to tell her that he and Ciara were on moderately speaking terms – by moderately, he meant that they actually had decent conversations without Ciara giving him looks that could kill. He would have told her had he been able to see her, but he guessed it slipped his mind. Was that the reason why she called him down to her office, to speak to him about it? Did she find out on her own? If so, she certainly would not be mad about it, but happy. Excited even. That being the case, what was the reason he was going to her office? She was up to something, Erol knew that much, and knowing that insane mind of hers it was something he would disagree with immediately. Still, her plan could have involved him and Ciara, as she would want them to become even closer than before. It was the least she could do, but Erol would have to go against it. They _just_ started talking again after six years of having lost contact. Sure he knew that Casey would never do anything that would jeopardize the opportunity, but he just wanted to remain friends for the time being. After all, he _was_ in a relationship.

It was at that thought that he almost stopped walking abruptly, eyes widening in realization. O_h no_, he thought in horror. How could he have let that thought, that one simple yet utterly important thought, slip his mind: the fact that he was in a relationship with the Lieutenant? It must have been because he was so preoccupied with Ciara that everything else just slipped away until now. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be furious if she found out he had been spending time with Ciara. However, he could have been wrong, especially after having been caught with the fugitive a few days prior and was not scolded. Nevertheless. he did not want anything serious to happen, not when he was starting to get things back to normal with Ciara. He knew just how possessive Rachel could become, especially if what he was doing had been kept a secret. At the moment, however, she did nothing, seeing as how their relationship was "strong" and "would last." To her it seemed that way, but how long would that last now that Ciara was here and he _promised_ that no one would get in the way of their friendship again?

The Commander sighed and ran a hand through his fiery hair. This was going to be a lot tougher than he originally planned.

Approaching the medical wing of the Palace, Erol quietly entered the room, just barely pausing as the doors slid open upon recognizing the person walking inside. When he entered, he found himself a room that appeared similar to the lobby of a hospital. Waiting chairs sat quietly on either side, different species of plants from the mountains sitting atop the tables in front of them and bringing some color into the bland room, and a desk – also with plants – on the opposite end of the room. Ironically, in comparison to the darkened looming atmosphere of the rest of the Palace, the medical wing was completely white and looked like one of those old fashion laboratories with the mad doctors and their grotesque experiments. Only he was in _part_ of the never-ending wing. The air, upon entering the room, changed immediately to a calm, almost ethereal, atmosphere, a feeling that completely contradicted with the rest of the building.

Recalling why he was there in the first place, Erol began making his way to Casey's office, where she was presumed to be at that point in time. He still wondered why she wanted to see him to begin, confused by her sudden request to have him come to her office added with the fact that it was a guard who went looking for him. It was unlike her to send someone else like that; it was usually she who left her office in a hurry to find him when she needed to speak with him. She enjoyed taking strolls through the halls, even though the building was not the best kind of place to call "home." That being said, what suddenly changed her mind to send someone else in her stead? He frowned a bit and shook his head. _Probably one of her lazy days or something_, he told himself, albeit it was rarity for something like that to be true.

As he continued to make his way to the therapist's office, he half-expected that guard he was told about to be leaving as he arrived, possibly dazed after a long and rattling conversation with Casey in order to solve the issue at hand – the issue being to cope with the loss of his comrades, his own friends, to those monsters lurking outside the city walls. Oddly, as the Commander continued to make his way through the seemingly empty halls, he found that no one else was there. No footsteps sounded, no distant voices echoing and bouncing off the walls, nothing but silence. They were most likely off on break, as far as Erol knew. Since Casey was one of the head members of the medical wing, she must have sent them off to relax before returning to work, or some of them at least. There was no way she would send _everyone_ away, especially when medical attention could be required at any point. However, he was not there to worry about the well-being of the medics; he was there to see Casey.

Just as her office door came into view, the Commander watched as her door opened and out walked the woman he came to see. Her short teal hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, and her bangs formed over her face and was pinned back; just like it always was. Violet eyes looked over her shoulder back into her room, giving Erol the opportunity to notice the jacket that appeared similar to a lab coat. It was white instead of her usual black cloak, and it was left open for him to see her attire. It was very simple at the moment; just a normal brown colored top with long, dark pants and flats. The sleeves of her jacket were rolled up to her elbows, revealing her lightly tanned arms. From afar, she looked like a scientist, a real life scientist! _We really need to change the attire in this place_, he thought.

"Now, I want you to remember everything that we talked about," she said as another person – possibly the guard that was mentioned before Erol arrived – exited the room. He appeared no older than about nineteen years; he had to be a rookie just getting a glimpse of reality a lot harder than expected. Just as he expected, his blue eyes were in a daze as his brown locks shielded some of his face from view. They appeared terrified, as if he had seen one of the most gruesome and horrifying sights in the world.

The rookie looked back at Casey; Erol noticed he was visibly shaking with terror and fear.

"But...but how am I gonna live through this...?" He asked, his voice mirroring his quivering form. The Commander recognized his voice immediately; it was the same, confident rookie from a few days ago, the one that was almost choked to death by Ciara. "My dad...he...he was..."

Casey, with a comforting gaze and smile, placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Relax," she said soothingly. "It wasn't your fault. Your father's death was not your doing."

Erol's eyes widened slightly at her words. _So it was his father that was a part of that team_, he said to himself. His eyes narrowed a bit. _I suppose that's what he gets for trying to be a show-off..._

"But I didn't do anything to stop those things!" He exclaimed, his head bowing in shame. "He would be ashamed of me! Letting him die like that."

"Stop it," she told him, her eyes and voice becoming serious. "Your father would be happy to see that you're alive and well, and he would be proud to know you will be living on in his name." Her head lowered as well, but out of respect. "He was a great officer and will be missed greatly," She looked at him again, "but you're going to have to move on in order for him to find peace." The rookie remained silent at her words, but slowly and shakily nodded in response. "Come back if you need anything else, okay?" With another nod, the rookie began walking away, passing by the Commander without so much as a second glance. Before Erol had a chance to watch him leave, Casey was already in front of him, her seriousness gone like the wind. "There you are! You're just in time!" She exclaimed happily, linking her arm with his and smiling like a little girl.

"Sounds like you got finished with another patient," muttered Erol as she lead him into her office.

She nodded and said, "Yes sir, I did. Poor guy watched his father and friends get mauled to death by Metal Heads out at the Pumping Station the other day." She allowed him to walk ahead as she shut the door behind her, locking it behind her. "The bodies are in the autopsy room, but it's pretty gruesome to say the least. That guy's father had one of his arms torn off and his throat ripped out."

"Damn..." Erol muttered as he took a seat. Casey made her way around the desk and took her own seat. "I thought it was bad, but now, I don't even know what to think..."

"I saw the bodies myself," she stated with a bit of a frown. "Even I almost puked at the sight _and_ the smell." A brief silence came over them before she looked him in the eye. "So I reckon you're wondering why I called you down here, huh?"

Erol looked at her for a long moment before saying, "As a matter of fact, I am. It's not like you to call me for something important, let alone send someone else to go looking for me."

She giggled, placing her feet on her desk and placing her hands behind her head, and said, "Not surprised. It was a bit sudden to call you down here without giving a reason, but I couldn't say what it was without that guard becoming suspicious."

Erol raised an eyebrow before questioning, "Why would he become suspicious?"

"It's because it involves you and Ciara," She smirked, as if she did something devilishly evil, "seeing as how you are...somewhat friends again."

At those words, the Commander leaned forward, eyes widening slightly. How did she find out about him trying to mend his past relationship with Ciara? How did she know without having seen her since yesterday?

"When did you find out?" He asked, leaning back in his seat again.

"Today, actually." She stated, her smile remaining eminent. "I saw you walking through the hallways with her, talking as if everything in the past never happened at all." She paused. "Well, excluding the fact that Ciara wasn't smiling all that much, but close enough to say the least!"

He chuckled.

"Alright, so you know," he spoke, his smile remaining present, "but I don't think it's a good idea to be talking about it out loud like this."

She laughed at my words, removing her feet off the desk and folding her hands in front of her.

"Not to worry, Commander," she assured him. "There are no cameras in this room, so the guards won't be able to hear our conversation." Erol stared her down for a moment; no wonder he could not find any cameras in the room when she first started working here. She shrugged. "It was a request, since the personal lives of the guards should be kept between me and the specific guard in question. I feared some of the things I heard would be embarrassing should anyone else be listening."

Erol shrugged. She was smarter than she put off, just like he expected.

"So, what is that you wanted to tell me?" He asked. "You know, involving Ciara and I?"

Remembering the topic at hand, she had a bit of an "Oh, yeah!" moment before standing.

"Well," she started, "seeing as how you and Ciara are trying to be friends again, I thought I should help make the bond even stronger than before."

He raised an eyebrow.

"And how do you suppose you're going to do that?" He questioned. "With the Baron keeping a close eye on her, I wouldn't be surprised if he found out what you were planning for the both of us."

Her next words threw him off, a simple word that he never even considered until she brought it up: "A date."

Amber eyes widened at her words, shocked that she even thought about the idea. _A date?_ Was she out of her mind? Anyone would realize that Ciara was missing if he took her out on a date. Someone would be concerned with her sudden disappearance, look for her, realize she was no longer there, and tell the Baron. If the Baron found out, only the Precursors knew what that man would do to Ciara, what he would do to him! However, it was Casey brought up the idea, not him. It was not that he did not want to; he wanted their relationship to grow stronger, but with all of the possibilities of getting caught at hand, there would be no chance of a date to happen. Then again, it was Casey's idea, and Erol was sure she thought through all of the kinks and chances of getting caught all day. Knowing her, she could have come up with something, since she was extremely determined to help the relationship grow even stronger. He just hoped that the plan was not too drastic to actually be a serious issue.

"A...date...?" He slowly questioned.

She nodded and quickly said, "I know what you're thinking; doing something like this is completely impossible and one or both of you will get caught. But, as you have probably assumed, I _have_ thought this through and did my best to go through all the kinks and issues that may arise."

Raising an eyebrow with interest, Erol crossed his arms across his chest and leaned in his chair.

"Alright," he stated, "but first, I wanna hear what you came up with."

Smiling, she began walking around her desk at a slow pace.

"Well, here's what I wanted to do for you guys." She started to explain. "During the night, you and Ciara sneak out of Palace and into the city. By then, I'll have a comrade working outside of the Palace to help you out." Erol's eyes narrowed briefly. "It's no one from the Underground. He's neutral ground." He shook his head as she stopped in front of her desk. "When you get out, he'll guide you through the different routes that aren't littered with passing guards. Other than that, you're pretty much home free!" She leaned against her desk, sighing as if she were dreaming. "You can do whatever you want at that point. Take her out to dinner, go for a nice walk, go dancing!"

She looked at him, noticing the disinterested expression on Erol's face at dancing before said, "Hell no."

She rolled her eyes at that.

"Just because you have two left feet doesn't mean she does, too." She told him.

"You don't know her like I do," he explained himself, leaning back in his seat in a rather relaxed manner. "She _abhors_ dancing with a passion. I may have two left feet, but she doesn't have any feet at all when it comes to dancing." He chuckled, looking downward as that distant look came into his eyes. "I can still remember the day she actually tried back in high school...moments before tripping, planting her face into that table and knocking everything to the floor." His hand fell upon his face, just below his nose, as if he was trying to hold back laughter. "The look on her face...was priceless." Casey, listening intently for a moment, leaned forward so that she was pretty much face to face with him, a grin clear as day on her face. His eyes glanced at her, staring her down as he slowly came back to reality, before uttering a small, "What?"

She giggled before moving back to her spot and singing, "You're rambling unconsciously again~" Both his smile and his hand fell from his face, and were replaced by a growing red shade upon his cheeks. Before he had a chance to speak, she continued with her plan "Anyway, after you _lovebirds_ have your fun out on the town," Her words caused the red shade to turn darker as he glared at her even more, "my friend will help you come back to the Palace and you make your way back to rooms, as if nothing happened at all!" She smiled sheepishly. "I know it's not much, but I figured I should let you do what you guys wanna do and not give any suggestions."

After listening to everything, Erol sat upright, clearing his throat (or at least pretending to, when in reality he was trying to force away the blood running to his cheeks).

"Okay, sounds fair," he stated, "but already I found a few flaws with that...'plan,' or lack thereof." She shrugged; he had a bit of a point there. "When you talked about sneaking out of the Palace, someone is bound to notice the disappearance. Guards are watching the cameras in Ciara's room twenty-four seven, so having her just get up and leave will catch their eye immediately."

She smirked, as if she knew the answer to that question immediately, and responded, "I have taken that thought to heart and came up with something to solve the problem." She stood up straight and walked back behind her desk, taking hold of a file that was lying in front of her and opening it. "Since Ciara will be believed to be sleeping at night, I took the liberty of looping the video footage for whenever you wish to have this date. I'm doing the same for you, too, just to be safe."

He thought for a moment about that before muttering, "Alright, then how about when we get back? The guards will be checking on her-"

"At precisely three in the morning," she interrupted him quickly. "I checked these past few days since she's been here to make sure. With some working around the schedule, you will definitely be back before then." She looked down at the file. "My comrade, once I get into contact with one, will tell you at around two in the morning, if you're out that late, that it would be safe to start heading back. The one I have my eyes on knows all of the roots in which the guards will take, and can lead you through the ones that are the safest and quickest until you are back. By that point, you're on your own."

Erol sat there for a moment, silently thinking over everything that was relayed to him. Here was what he got out of it: Some time during the week – this week, the next, or whenever the time was right – he will be taking Ciara on a _date_ out in the city. The video footage for both his room and Ciara's would be looped until around three in the morning – he was assuming that, as returning will be extremely crucial to the plan. Once outside, they will do...whatever they wanted to do. He was not sure, but it was something productive and worth their time. They would grow closer, just like Casey wanted, and have a great time. Then, if the time was running longer than anticipated, some mysterious person would help them back to the Palace, unnoticed by passing guards. It will be up to him and Ciara to make their way back to their rooms on their own and head to sleep in a precise position to make it seem like they had been there the whole time before anyone saw them and reported them in the morning. Then, the next day, they would pretend as if nothing happened when around others, but know everything that happened the night before, making him closer to Ciara than ever before.

It..._sounded _complete, but was it really going to work?

He looked back at the therapist, realizing that she was standing right in front of him and awaiting his response, before nodding once.

"I suppose...that could work..." He muttered hesitantly.

Smiling, she pat his head, earning a glare from the Commander.

"I promise," she reassured him, placing her hands on her hips. "When I come up with a perfect day, I'll tell you. And I promise it'll work. I promise you that you and Ciara will be closer just like when you were little."

He looked up at her, her violet eyes reassuring him, before he looked down at the ground.

"I hope you're right, Casey." He mumbled unconsciously. "I hope you're right..."


	14. Questioning Sanity

**_The Next Day_**

**_Ciara's POV_**

The sun suddenly entered my room much faster than I had anticipated last night, enough to make it seem as though I did not sleep at all last night. In turn, it caused me to stir and turn away from it in an attempt to sleep in more, pulling the covers over me even more and keeping my eyes shut. Unfortunately, the sunlight had already fallen upon my face and forced me to move, telling me that it was time to wake up and not to be lazy. My eyes opened, azure eyes glaring at the wall in front of me before tossing the covers off my body haphazardly and sitting up, all the while fixing the sleeve of my blue tank top after it fell off my shoulders.

As much as I wanted to stay asleep for just another few minutes more, something in the back of my mind told me that today was going to be a rather odd day. Why such a thing was coming to mind was beyond my knowledge, but it sure upset me in an instant. I hated having odd days; it was the kind of day that things would just be topsy-turvy, as if everything was suddenly out of balance and I was the cause of it. Days like that just seemed to throw me off task and distract me, and I hated feeling that way.

Groaning at the thought of having such a day come to pass, I sighed and got to my feet, running a hand through my now messy hair and bangs. The coldness of the rug made me shiver a little, but it meant nothing to me at that point. Even after years of living out in the hot dry desert, the coolness did not affect me in the slightest. After stretching and feeling a few of my bones crack before relaxing, I sauntered over to the dresser placed right across from my bed, which Casey had placed in there and put more clothes for me to wear in the closet while I was out. Atop of it was a large mirror and some accessories that may be used sometime in the future, like gloves and even some jewelry. It was not a lot of jewelry; just some earrings and the necklace given to me by a childhood friend. A few brushes and combs were there was well, neatly lined as if awaiting orders from a commander. They were neatly placed on the dresser, making it easy to find. I felt a small, barely noticeable smile form on my lips. It was rather...nice, I suppose...of her to do such things for me, even if I was not the best guest in the world. It made me wonder why she would act that way. What did I ever do to deserve her kindness? It was a question I could not fully understand, and something told me that I would not know for a long time.

Shaking my head, I opened the top dresser and pulled out a matching set of undergarments – no doubt thanks to Casey as a bit of a joke – before closing it and moving on to my closet. The sun still beat brightly against the window, reflecting and creating a glare. Frowning, I moved over to the curtains and closed it enough to block out the rays, but enough to shed some light in the room without the use of electricity. Once that was over and done with, I walked over and opened the closet door, scanning over the attire that was available to me. Much to my fortune, Casey gave me clothes that were discreet and modest, seeing as how I was very uncomfortable with wearing such attire and having people stare. My eyes narrowed a moment, thinking back on the memories of home, of Spargus. Then again, I wore some revealing clothes back then; not enough to consider myself a "prostitute," but enough to say it was not very modest. My reason was because of the weather, and it was damn good reason. Had it been a little cooler, the attire would change in an instant. That was besides the point, though. Point being I was still grateful to know that Casey understood that little problem of mine. Who knew what kind of clothes I would have been given if someone like the Baron picked something out for me to where?

Pushing that thought out of my mind after shivering uncomfortably, I simply pulled something out - a dark, long sleeved jacket with only three silver buttons, leaving it open for the under shirt (which was purple) to be seen - and searched for some pants and shoes. It did not take very long, as I chose to wear of dark jeans and black buckled up boots, before shutting the closet door. For some reason, I found myself staring into nothing as I walked to the bathroom in order to shower. The pit of my stomach had an uncomfortable wrenching feeling, churning every now and again as I entered the bathroom and shut and locked the door. I was not sure why, though, and it was hard to figure out. Was it because I was worried about having an odd day? Was I sensing something that may cause some distress later in the day? Did I just have an upset stomach from dinner last night? I did not know, and that only further upset me as I stripped of my clothes. _I suppose I was right_, I thought as I entered the shower, turning it on and allowing the water to flow onto my body.

Oddly enough, it felt like I had not bathed in weeks, when in reality it was just yesterday that I cleaned my body. My eyes narrowed as my hair started to dampen and stick to my body. I frowned and attempted to pull the hair off me as I washed, but it just ended up in the same place. iI really need to look into getting a haircut/i, I told myself. Instead of constantly worrying about something as petty as my own hair, I decided to look on to something else, something I thought was a bit more important to me.

That subject was Erol.

Azure eyes closed as I started to wash my hair. _How is that I was able to fall for the same trick as last time_, I questioned almost harshly. I was still in disbelief over the fact that I had given Erol a third and final chance to redeem himself. Why would I give someone like him, someone who stabbed me in the back…_twice_…another chance? I should have killed him off when the opportunity arose, yet I chose to give him another chance. Why? Was it because I was so willing to forgive him? Did I want to believe that our relationship could be fixed? Maybe, but then again maybe not. Maybe I was trying to fool myself, fool the both of us, until thinking of ridiculous fantasies of renewing our friendship. Maybe I just wanted to feel like I had a chance, when in reality there was no chance at all. My eyes opened at that thought, allowing the shampoo to rinse out of my hair, trickle down my body and wash down the drain. _Stop thinking like that, Ciara_, I snapped at myself, looking over and grabbing the conditioner. There had to be a reason as to why I wanted to forgive Erol, why I wanted to forget everything in the past and look to the future, _our_ future. Unfortunately, that reason was unclear, and it upset me even further.

After finishing with the conditioner and scrubbing it in, I cleaned the rest of my body, rinsed out my hair, and cut off the water. Once I rung out the water from most of my hair, I stepped out of the shower, picking up the towel that was nearby, and dried myself off. Then, I wrapped my hair in the towel and began putting on my clothes, starting with my undergarments, pants, and shoes. I chose to worry about the top once I took off the towel. It was great to have a room to myself, where I did not have to worry about people watching me or people feeling uncomfortable with seeing me without a shirt. However, that was a thought for another day. I picked the top along with the other articles of clothing left shrew along the sink and headed for the door, opening it and stepping out before heading over to the bed. When I looked at the time, I realized it was about ten in the morning, a normal time for me to wake up. Placing my clothes on the bed, I decided to leave my pajamas on the bed and place them the dirty clothes bin later - before I left the room, of course.

Removing the towel from atop my head, I shook out my hair and began putting on the purple undershirt, the spaghetti straps falling onto my shoulders comfortably and looking as though they would never slip. As I started to remove my hair from the shirt, a sudden sound - a whisper almost - stopped me in my tracks. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up instantly, causing me to shiver. It felt like someone else was in the room with me, watching me with a piercing gaze as it stared at the back of my head. Instead of acting like I knew it was there, I shrugged it off and and put on the jacket, pulling my hair out and allowing it to flow behind me. The gaze still felt like it was there, watching every single move I made, but I tried not to worry about it. Maybe the feeling would go away. After buttoning up the jacket, I took the pajamas, moved over to the closet, where the bin for dirty clothes was placed right next to it, and tossed them in before moving to the dresser.

I picked up the brush and began moving it through my blond locks, cursing myself for how long it had gotten and neglecting to get a haircut or at least cut it off myself. Despite its long length, it did not take very long to comb through it and remove any knots - it was relatively manageable despite my line of work, though there were days when I just wanted to tear it out. Once I was finished with my hair, I picked up the comb and went to work on my bangs. Since they were not in any specific style, it was relatively easy to brush through and make them appear decent. Once that was over and done with, I put the comb down, picked up the necklace of the Seal of Mar, and wrapped it around my hand, making sure that the small symbol sat comfortably in my hand before putting the gloves on. I stared at it for a moment, recalling all of the fond memories of the past in an instant, making me smile ever so slightly.

Suddenly, a voice I thought I would never hear again appeared.

"**You know...you should burn that thing, right?**"

My head shot to the mirror in front of me, only to gasp and step away from the dresser. The sight was one I had seen before, but at the same time wanted to avoid seeing ever again. It was my image, only the image was one that made me realize I was looking into the eyes of 'It.' By that, I meant I was referring to the monster that was forced inside of me, the creature that the Baron created nine years ago.

The first thing that immediately caught my eye was her blackened, void of color eyes, staring me down as if she was ready to pounce at her prey and tear it apart bitby bit. Just staring at them made me feel empty, as if I was swimming in nothing but darkness where no light could enter. Her skin was a deathly, almost purplish shade, and fangs appeared from under her upper lip; she almost had a vampire look to her form, only her skin was very faint, pale purple hue. Her hair, similar to my own, was now purple, with the bangs a much darker purple, almost black one could say, before turning into a regular purple color, replacing the blond locks altogether. Horns grew out of her head, but curled backward and partially away from the center. Instead of mirroring my horrified state, she had her frail hands on the dresser, her elongated black nails much more prominent than the rest, and they tapped against the wood as if itching for a fight...or something to snack on.

As I watched, I soon recalled the name I had decided to give her, since I did not want to refer to her with my own name. Azure eyes narrowed as I muttered one word: "Megaera…"

The fiend, properly named Megaera, giggled almost maniacally; it had been too long since her name had been called, and it had been too long since I had seen her face with my own two eyes.

"**Long time no see, hm, Ciara.**" She spoke, flipping her dark purple bangs out of her face. It showed off her vanity and narcissism, two traits I greatly despised the most about her. "**Been locked away in that tiny little head of yours for…six years now?**" Her eyes closed and pursed her lips as if upset by that, but I knew the truth behind her ruse. "**That's much too long to be put away.**"

Not wanting to listen to the crap she spewed out of her mouth, I harshly asked, "What the Hell do you want, Megaera?"

Her dark eyes opened again, staring at me with an almost menacing gaze, before giggling like a little child.

"**I'm here to set you straight, my dear**," she explained, moving so that her knees were on the dresser now. Despite what the image in the mirror showed, which was the moving of the brush, comb, among other things, not a single thing was moved on my side. "**You've strayed much too far from your morals, and I'm here to remind you of them.**"

"What do you mean?" I inquired, standing up straight and keeping a harsh gaze.

"**You vowed never to associate yourself with anyone here**," Megaera explained, crossing her arms over her chest, "**and yet you've found yourself speaking to the bastard that betrayed you years ago. Twice, if I'm not mistaken.**" My eyes shifted briefly; for the first time, she had a point. "**I know you think I'm right, and yet you're off pretending none of it happened.**"

"I haven't forgotten," I quickly spoke. "I remember everything, and I won't let him back into my life so easily." It was at those words that she started to laugh maniacally. "What's so funny?" I questioned.

When she stopped, she looked me dead in the eye and said, "**You said that six years ago before getting stabbed in the back.**" She grinned as if playing a devilish game. "**I find it hysterical that your so naïve about your own emotions.**"

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked. As much as I did not want to listen to what she had to say, she was raising a lot of points; it started to bother me a lot more than I wanted it to.

She closed her eyes, appearing as if she was holding in her laughter, before looking at me again. Then, she leaned forward, looking as if she would just fall against the mirror, but instead passed through it and onto my side. I blinked once at the sight, but was not really surprised by what was happening. After a moment, she started to crawl toward me in an almost predatory stance, her eyes never leaving mine as she made her way closer to me. When she was close enough to nearly be face to face with me, she stared at me for a long moment before uttering a few words: "**I know you're in love with him, but you're too stubborn and prideful to admit it.**"

Azure eyes widened in surprise as I moved away from her, my legs hitting the bed but not knocking me over. That was not true; I could not be in love with him, especially not after what he had done to me. It was unrealistic.

In that instant, an entirely new light came to pass over me, revealing things that I probably never would have seen before. It raised a large amount of questions that really started to hit home. Was Megaera actually right about something for once? Was she speaking the truth when she claimed that I was in love with Erol? In my mind, I tried to shake it off, debunk such ridiculous accusations, but found it difficult to do such a thing. As I said, it was not true. I could not feel such emotions because I had pushed anything that I felt toward him so far into the back of my mind that they seemed non-existent. It was the refusal to accept them or think of them as anything more than just petty feelings, things that would just get in the way. Unfortunately, when Megaera brought up that little detail the way she did, it made me wonder something very important: Was it the sole reason that I was so willing to forgive Erol for what he had done in the past? Was it because I was supposedly in love with him that I desperately wanted to forgive him?

When another moment passed, my eyes narrowed harshly as I glared at Megaera, who was now just sitting on my dresser with her legs crossed.

"That's a lie," I hissed, standing up straight again. "How could I love someone who betrayed me twice?"

She laughed at that, twirling a piece of her bangs.

"**You know you shouldn't do that, right?**" She stated. When I sent her a confused look, she went on to say, "**Push away your emotions and hide them away, I mean. It's not healthy, especially for someone like you.**"

I rolled my eyes and crossed my arms over my chest. "Explain."

Once I said that, she suddenly appeared in front of my face, causing me to jump and fall back onto the bed. After a moment, she grinned that damned grin of hers.

"**If you don't stop pushing away your emotions, they'll only come back to bite you in the ass.**" She started to explain smoothly. "**Eventually, now that you're around him along with spilling your guts about said past, those feelings will start to resurface. By then, you'll start to get worried, enough to think that you'll be betrayed once again. You'll start to think that he's plotting against you, trying to betray you a third time.**" I swallowed the lump in my throat as she moved closer to my face. "**You'll think he's just messing with you again, contemplate spying him. You'll become obsessed with that idea, and soon come to think that everyone is out to get you. In the end**," She smirked as her face was so close to mine that our noses touched briefly, lowering her voice to a menacing whisper, "**your sanity will fly right out the window…and** **_I'll_** **be coming out to play…**"

The moment she finished saying that, she started laughing maniacally just as I blinked. When I opened my eyes, she was gone, vanishing almost like magic and leaving behind the echo of her laughter in her wake. I looked about for a moment trying to find her, only to be left all alone once again. My head fell to the ground, sinking into the bed and hunching forward.

I hated when she left so abrubtly the way she did, when questions were left unanswered. She did that to me six years ago when she tried convincing me not to go running back to Erol like some lost puppy, claiming that I would be so disappointed I was lose my sanity in an instant. Despite the fact that I hated her guts to no end, she was not wrong about that - the proof was in the aftermath, meaning what I did to the city out of anger, rage, and the sense of betrayal. It made me wonder about now. Was I really going to start losing my mind at some point, believing that everyone would turn against me. So far, the people that despised or feared me were the Krimzon Guard, the Baron, and (despite her "friendly disposition") Rachel. The only people that were on my side as far as I knew, excluding the citizens of Spargus, was Casey and Erol. In the end, I was all alone. Maybe Megaera was onto something. Maybe I would eventually start to lose my mind, my sanity, and bring her back into the open to do as she so pleased.

I looked toward the mirror after a moment, staring at my reflection. My azure eyes were wide with anxiety, and I started to frighten myself a little. Deep down I had a feeling that she was indeed right, no matter how much I wanted to deny her words. If that was the case, it would only be a matter of time before my sanity would dissipate, and she would come out again to wreak havoc. Only this time, there would be no other chances; this time around, the entire city would fall to the ground, and never again would I be able to forgive Erol without releasing Megaera's rage. I looked at my hands, noticing them visibly shaking out of an unknown emotion. At least, that was what I told myself, but in reality I knew what it was. It was fear. Without having to think, I knew exactly what I was afraid of: I was afraid of losing Erol for the third time and never getting the chance to see him ever again.

Eyes narrowing, my head lowered and fell into my hands. Maybe Megaera was right. Maybe I really was falling for him all over again...


	15. Rachel

**_General POV_**

The Lieutenant of the Krimzon Guard silently wandered the halls of the Palace, making her way back to her bedroom. Her gaze, blank and void of any emotion, stared forward into nothing but emptiness. Her lips were downward, forming a frown on her usually happy face. Every step she took was graceful, as if missing a beat would throw her off task, yet her mind was off on other things she deemed important.

For starters, she had just gotten out of a rather brief meeting with the Baron about five minutes ago. Although it was brief to a point where she wondered what the point was, she still found herself looking back on it with seething and uncontrollable disdain. She did not, in any way, begin to despise the Baron. He had his reasons for speaking and reacting the way he did, though she did not really understand. The way he spoke to her made it seem as though he was nervous about something, something that might have been bothering him, but that was a trait Rachel knew was non-existent in her leader. As far as she knew, anyway, since she was not one to go prying in the business of the Baron. Still, the way he spoke and the way he acted both had her on edge. With that in mind, she tried to understand thought reasons, make sense of them, and move on with her life.

"You're starting to worry me, Lieutenant," he said the moment she stopped at the foot of the stairs. "As much as it pains me to say that."

Violet eyes blinked as she watched Praxis stand and begin his descent.

"I don't seem to follow, sir," she spoke, brows furrowing curiously. "You have nothing to worry about."

"I do if that fugitive is around," he retorted just as he stopped in front of Rachel, towering over her and giving off a menacing stance. However, Rachel was unfazed by his oversized stature. "I know you're just hiding your real emotions from her and playing innocent."

A smile formed on her lips as her head tilted to the side, her bangs swaying along with her, as she said, "I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm treating her as if she were once again a part of the Krimzon Guard."

His eyes narrowed as he turned away from her and toward the window.

"I should have known you would lie to my face," he muttered as he walked away.

"Sir, you have nothing to worry about," she assured him, her gaze following after him as he approached the window. "Even if I am still a little upset over the fact that she tried to kill me, I'm not going to hold a grudge against her."

He stopped before turning around to look at her.

"You will if Erol keeps seeing her," he told her. "He was friends with her at one point, so there's doubt that won't happen again."

Her smile remained, yet her brows furrowed curiously once again.

"What are you talking about?" She inquired, eyes holding something that Praxis found...creepy. He looked at her, unsure of what she meant by her words, as she went on. "Erol will never be friends with her again. He promised that he would never associate himself with her." Her smile grew, and her eyes became filled with an unknown expression.

The Baron turned around to look at her again.

"He...told you that," he questioned, though it sounded more like a statement than a question.

"I made him promise, sir," she responded robotically, straightening her head and keeping her smile present. "I know he loves me so much that he would never break a promise." He continued to stare at her almost nervously; it was the first time he had actually seen that strange side of her. "After all, Ciara was the one who hurt him in the first place, so I wanted to make sure he never associated himself with her."

"Is that so?" Praxis asked. When she nodded, he went on. "Well, then how do you explain why Erol was with Ciara that day in the prison?" Her brows furrowed briefly, though it was not one of curiosity. "I was watching the cameras that day and saw the whole thing. I'm wondering if you did as well."

Suddenly, she started laughing like a little girl, though that little girl sounded more like...something else entirely.

"He said he went to check on her, sir, and make sure she was alright," she informed him after he laugh had died down. "I know he would never do anything to harm our relationship. Not even Ciara could break our bond that we share."

He stared at her for another moment, taking note of her obliviousness, before sighing.

"I'll let you think that, Lieutenant," he stated blandly. "I'll let you live in that fantasy world of yours for now, but don't do anything drastic if things don't go your way."

Her eyes narrowed as she stopped in front of her room, punching in the numbers moments before the door slid open and she walked inside. Her hands, clenched out of seething anger, remained at her sides as she stormed into the room just as the lights, although dim, flickered on. Her room really did not have much, and she had come to terms with that and simply let it be. All she had was a bed to sleep on, a desk for any paperwork that needed to be done, and a dresser filled with her clothes. She requested that she did not need a lot of belongings to keep herself preoccupied, so the emptiness seemed to suit her just fine.

Walking inside even further, she took off her weapons that remained with her at all times before she suddenly started to pace back and forth, arms crossing over her chest and her eyes glaring at everything in her room. _What does he know_, she questioned harshly, going back to that damned conversation with the Baron. It was the first time he actually ticked her off to a point where she wanted to punch a hole in a wall. Rachel believed - no, she _knew_ - she was right about the Commander. Her relationship with him was stronger than ever before, and it was growing stronger every day. Whether Ciara was in the building or not, there was nothing that could tear them apart. Rachel was confident in that fact alone, and the Baron was trying to put things in her head. In other words, he did not believe that things would last between her and the Commander, especially since Ciara was back from her long absence.

Stopping in the middle of the room, her gaze, void of the glare and replaced with one of...madness, fell to the ground. A smile, partially crooked to say the least, forming on her lips.

"Why am I getting so worked up about what the Baron says?" She questioned quietly, as if speaking out loud would grab someone's attention. Then, she started to giggle. "He doesn't know anything about my relationship with Erol. There's no way he would go back to Ciara after what she put him through."

She paused after those words left her lips, recalling the blond fugitive that resided in the Palace along with her. The thought of the Wastelander made her blood boil everso slightly, yet at the same time a little sad. It was true that she loathed the fugitive for what she did, or tried to do, yet Rachel knew she had the upper hand. To start, she had Erol all to herself, especially after Ciara completely abandoned him and ran off to the Wasteland. If she was really his "friend," then she would have stuck by his side no matter what kind of trouble or issue was thrown at her. The Lieutenant's lips pursed briefly at that thought, going through her memories for a short moment. It did not bother her that Ciara had left the way she did, since it was her decision to go after Erol had broken off their friendship and relationship at the time. Besides, Ciara had accused Rachel multiple times of things she would never even dream of doing in a lifetime.

A sigh escaped the Lieutenant's lips as she walked over to sit on her bed. Deep down, she knew she felt some pity for the fugitive. She may have nearly been killed by her, but she kind of understood why. Ciara had believed that her life was taking a turn for the worst all because of Rachel, and took her anger out accordingly. Still, even as Ciara nearly tore her apart, Rachel could still see the pain that resided behind those eyes, the pain she felt of losing a childhood friend, or even a possible lover. In a way, she felt bad for what had happened between Erol and Ciara, but there was nothing she could do about it now. Since she was now in a relationship with the Commander, she did not want to give him up. She had been in love with him years before Ciara took off, and letting him go now would crush her. Then again, it was Ciara, someone that she saw as a great warrior at one point.

Suddenly, a knock was heard against her door, causing Rachel to shoot up in her bed at an insane speed. Her eyes widened briefly before a smirk fell upon her lips. The emotions she felt toward Ciara and the feelings of slight remorse melted away as she stood up again. _Looks like he's here_, she told herself as she fixed her clothes a bit and walked over to the door. Punching in a few numbers, the door slid open to reveal a sullen looking Krimzon Guard. Just as she expected, his weapon was nowhere in sight.

"Ah! You're just in time!" She exclaimed happily, moving out of the way. "Please come in! This has to be private."

Without question, the guard entered the room, looking about while the door behind him closed completely. Turning around, he watched as Rachel punched in the number to lock the door before she turned to him.

"So...what is that you needed to talk to me about?" The guard asked, removing his helmet to reveal brown colored hair and blue eyes; it was the same guard who had gone to see Casey that same day.

Rachel smirked as she approached him, moving one foot in front of the other in a graceful manner, before she answered, "Well, I heard you had lost your team to a group of Metal Heads." She stopped in front of him and placed her hands against his armored chest. "You're father was part of that team, right?"

His eyes shifted briefly, a saddened look crossing over his pale features, as he nodded.

"Yeah," he muttered a reply, looking back at his Lieutenant almost curiously. "I just went to see Casey a while ago, but it's hard to get it out of my head without feeling ashamed."

She pat his armor before stepping away from him.

"A shame, really," she told him, looking him over with what appeared to be a lustful gaze. "Losing a member of your family must be...difficult." Then, her smile grew. "But...I think I can help ease some of the pain." The guard looked at her, raising an eyebrow, yet said nothing as she pointed to his armor. "Take it off."

He blinked, eyes widening in surprise.

"W-wha...?"

"You heard me, soldier," she demanded, her smile falling from her lips as she turned into the Lieutenant he knew too well. "Take off...your armor. _Now_."

Shifting his eyes for a moment, he slowly but surely started to comply with her request, leaving what parts were removed on the floor near him. Rachel did not dare turn away out of respect, but instead chose to watch him. Her eyes watched intently as he removed every part of his armor in a rather slow, seemingly unpleasant manner. Little did she realize what was going on in his head, and frankly she did not seem to care anymore.

In his mind, the guard was unsure if he was supposed to feel uncomfortable over the fact that she was asking him to remove his armor in front of her or a little happy that the situation may turn into something that may have been every man's dream. He did feel uncomfortable for a while, since she was his superior officer, especially since he would have either been discharged or shot by the Commander if he found out about it. However, seeing Rachel the way she was - that lustful glint in her eyes, her arms crossed just under her breast to accentuate them - made him insane for even thinking of the consequences. On the outside, he really did not feel comfortable with going through with it, but on the inside he craved her, desired her and even imagined himself in a scenario similar to this - the only difference was that she would be stripping for him. As a man of his young age, it was hard to resist someone who was asking for it...literally.

As the last piece of armor came off, he looked at her again, that gaze still remaining on him as she approached him slowly. Her hips swayed gently, and it was hard for him to look away as her hands wrapped around his neck.

"You must be stressed out, sweetheart," she cooed innocently. "I bet you'll want to be...relieved..."

He swallowed the lump in his throat, that nervous side of him kicking in briefly, as he asked, "A-are you sure this is something you should be doing?"

She gave him a questioning, yet seductive gaze as she inquired, "Why do you say that...?"

"W-well," he started, tensing as her hands started to rub against his chest, "for starters, y-you're my Lieutenant. I could be discharged for doing this with you. P-plus..." He shivered as her hands fell to the rim of his pants, "y-y-you're with the Commander."

"Both of those things are true," she stated plainly, as if it really did not matter to her. "However, what no one knows won't hurt them." He was struck with surprise. _I thought she was in love with the Commander..._ "Now enough about me. I'm here to help you." She pointed to the bed. "Go to the bed and sit down."

Wordlessly and without anymore complaints, he did as he was commanded and slowly walked over to the edge of the bed, sitting down and looking to her. What he saw made his eyes widen and his pants become a little tighter than before. The Lieutenant had started to remove her shirt, revealing a dark colored bra to shield her breasts from view, before tossing it off to the side. She looked at him again, violet eyes staring him down like a lion hunting for food, before her hand came up and took out her high ponytail. She was fortunate enough to have gotten it cut the other day, reaching her bottom instead of the floor, but that was a thought for another time. Placing the tie on her dresser, she started making her way over to him, her gaze never leaving his, before she stopped in front of him. Her knees brushed against his, causing him to jump and her to laugh at her nervous state.

"You don't have to be so jumpy, my dear," she assured him, placing her hands on his shoulders. "I don't bite..."

"Y-y-yeah...but..." He stuttered, but gasped just as she began straddling his lap. Beads of sweat ran down his face, trying to hard not to just grab her and have his way with her at that moment. She noticed just how hard it was for him and started laughing.

"If you want to touch me," she started, taking his hand and raising it to her chest, "then go for it."

That was all he needed to react. Within seconds, he found himself pressing his lips against hers, kissing her and fulfilling one of his deepest desires. He could not lie to himself; he thought Rachel was incredibly sexy, but at the same time he knew that she was his officer. Despite the fact that he wanted to bed her, he understood the rule. Granted, her relationship with Erol may have been illegal as well, but they knew how to keep decency. Well, most likely Erol, but Rachel appeared to be an entirely different story altogether. Unlike the Commander, she appeared to be more lenient to the rules and did not mind breaking them if it meant getting what she wanted. However, that only begged a single question in his mind: if she really wanted to sleep with someone, why did she choose him instead of the Commander himself?

Unable to answer that question, he decided to forget about it as his hand fell upon her bottom, lifting her up as he stood. Neither of them broke the kiss as he turned around and fell onto her bed, placing her on the bottom and him hovering over her. His hands ran up her sides, rubbing them and uttering a small moan from the Lieutenant, before they found their way to her breasts. One of her hands had buried itself into his hair, but he was not sure as to where the other one went. He assumed it was on the hem of his pants again, but his mind was much too hazy at that point. Instead, he focused on taking that bra of hers off, moving his hand to her back and making her arch into him. She broke the kiss at that point, moving so that her chin rested on his shoulder and she leaned into him more. However, before he had a chance to take it off, she muttered something.

"I have a present for you," she said. He could hear that smile on her face, but he did not realize just what kind it was.

"What's that?" He asked.

Instead of receiving a verbal answer, he got a physical one. Pain suddenly shot through his body, causing him to cry out in pain. The sudden shock that went through him gave Rachel enough time to flip him over and onto his back, straddling him and placing her knees atop his wrists to keep him from pushing her away. He fell onto the bed and looked at her, noticing a maniacal and menacing gaze. A psychotic grin fell upon her lips as well as she stared down at him. It did not take him long to look over her figure to find that her shorts were stained with a color he did not recognize. It was not until he looked down more that he realized where it had come from and what exactly it was. It had come from him...and it was his blood. She had pulled out a knife and stabbed him, which only meant one, terrifying thing in his mind; Rachel, the Lieutenant of the Krimzon Guard, did not want to sleep with him, but instead kill him.

"W-w-what the Hell are you doing?!" He exclaimed horrifyingly as he looked back at her.

It was then that she started laughing hysterically; though it sounded nothing like her at all, but instead like a cackling witch.

"You actually _believed_ that I wanted to fuck you?" She marveled, her maniacal grin still plastered on her face. "You're one of the dumbest soldiers I've ever met in my life!"

"What are you talking about?" He shouted, unable to move to much due to the pain. "Why are you doing this to me?!"

Her head tilted to the side, eyes remaining wide and frightening him even further.

"Because you are weak!" She answered him. "You were too weak to save your comrades and your father, and several good men were lost because of your incompetence and your arrogance!" Her eyes narrowed, yet her grin lingered. "The Krimzon Guard will not allow a person of your status to be a part of this army anymore!"

"T-then why don't you discharge me?!" He questioned. "Why kill me?!"

She leaned forward to a point where her face hovered over his, smiling like one of those psychotic serial killers in horror movies.

"Because you are also too weak and unfit to live," she muttered. Immediately, she moved away and pulled out the knife from his body. He cried out in pain as he watched her hold it above his chest. "You're father must have been rolling his grave as he saw you thinking with your dick more than your own head!" She cackled again. "Now, he's going to watch as I _kill you_!"

"N-no! No, please!" He begged. "I'll do anything! JUST DON'T KILL ME!"

It was too late to stop. Instead of complying, she brought down the knife onto his chest, jamming it deeply. He screamed out in pain moments before the knife was torn out of him and brought back down again and again. Over and over, the sound of stabbing and bloodcurdling screams filled the room, yet the manically looking Rachel, with her darkened eyes, watching jovially as she ended his life little by little. Every stab to the chest brought him that much closer to death, and he felt helpless at that point. He could see everything growing darker around his eyes, and the pain still kept coming. Eventually, his screaming started to die out and his eyes started to close. Soon, the pain began to subside as he felt death's embrace. The last thing that he could hear was the guttural and demented laughter of the Lieutenant, a sickening laughter that, in his ears, sounded completely inhuman.


End file.
